/^  x>-DTivriinrpr»'Nr      at      .t  -v'^ 


PRINCETON,    N.    J. 


BX    9178    .V52    Gl 

Vincent,  Marvin  Richardson 

1834-1922. 
God  and  bread  with  other 


cfirmnnQ 


GOD   AND   BREAD 


WITH    OTHER    SERMOlSrS 


BY 


MARVIN  Ry  VINCENT,  D.D. 

PASTOK  OF  THE  CHURCH   OF  THK  COVENANx,    NEW   YORK 


NEW  YORK 
DODD,    MEAD,    AND    COMPANY 

1884 


COPTRIGHT,  1884, 

Bt  DODD,  mead,  &  COMPANY. 


ELKCTROTTPED   AND    PRINTED 

Br    RAND,    AVERY,    AND    COMPANY, 

BOSTON. 


STfjE  Conflttgatfan  of  tfje  Cijxirc!)  of  tf)e  Cobenant 

CJjts  ^Jolutne, 

^ublisfjElJ   at  €\)tix  ^tqmst, 

5g  'Sffecttonatclg  JinscribcJ 

33s  ^htir  Pastor. 


COJNTTENTS. 


PASB 

I.     God  and  Bread 3 

II.     Does  it  Pay  ? 21 

III.  The  Single  Need 39 

IV.  Facing  God 59 

V.    Light  and  Loyalty 77 

VI.    The  Ordered  Steps     .....  97 

VII.    Fidelity  and  Dominion 115 

VIII.    Extra  Service I35 

IX.    The  Pride  of  Care 153 

X.    The  Plough  and  the  Kingdom        .       .  173 

XL    Joy  and  Judgment 189 

XII.    Silent  before  God 207 

XIII.  A  Leper's  Logic 227 

XIV.  Prayer  and  Panoply         ....  247 
XV.    The  Daysman 265 

XVI.    The  Lesson  of  Ripeness    ....  285 
XVII.    Strength,  Victory,    and   Knowledge   in 

Youth 305 

XVIII.    God  and  the  Times  of  Ignorance  .       .  323 

XIX.    The  Promise  of  Incompleteness         .       .  343 

XX.    Only  a  Little  While        ....  363 

V 


I. 

GOD   AND   BREAD. 


I. 

GOD  AND   BREAD. 

"  But  he  answered  and  said,  It  is  written,  Man  shall  not  live 
by  bread  alone,  but  by  every  word  that  proceedeth  out  of  the 
mouth  of  God."  —Matt.  iv.  4. 

HOW  shall  we  live  ?  Multitudes  of  people  are 
asking  that  question  to-day  with  peculiar 
earnestness.  The  man  who  could  give  a  satisfac- 
tory practical  answer  would  be  regarded  as  the 
greatest  of  all  public  benefactors. 

But  why  do  not  men  go  to  the  Bible  for  an  an- 
swer ?  For  one  reason :  because  many  of  them,  at 
least,  assume  that  the  Bible  has  little  or  nothing  to 
do  with  their  every-day  affairs.  It  does  very  well 
to  preach  from,  to  read  sometimes  on  Sundays,  to 
furnish  fine  sentiments  and  apt  quotations ;  but  in 
the  pushing,  open-eyed  world  of  business,  in  the 
atmosphere  of  capital,  stocks,  bonds,  business-com- 
binations, panics,  it  is  as  much  out  of  place  as  a 
fifth-century  hermit  would  be  on  Wall  Street. 

Then,  again,  if  they  do  chance  to  consult  the 
Bible,  they  find  such  astonishing  answers,  so  utter- 
ly at  variance  with  tlie  principles  by  which  they 
have  been  accustomed  to  live,  that  they  quickly 
shut  the  book,  saying,  "  Fanciful !  Impracticable  ! " 

3 


4  GOD  AND   BREAD. 

This  text,  for  instance,  offers  an  answer  to  the 
question,  "  How  shall  we  live  ?  "  It  strikes  out,  in 
a  sentence,  a  theory  of  living.  How  generally  that 
theory  has  been  accepted  we  can  see  for  ourselves 
without  looking  very  far.  It  has  stood  on  record 
all  these  centuries :  yet  the  cry,  "  How  shall  we 
live?"  is  as  clamorous  as  ever;  and  the  great  mass 
of  society  is  living  by  quite  a  different,  indeed,  an 
opjyosite,  theory. 

To  understand  Christ's  theory  as  here  pro- 
pounded, we  must  examine  briefly  the  story  of 
Christ's  temptation,  with  which  it  is  connected. 

After  having  fasted  for  forty  da3^s,  our  Lord  was 
visited  by  the  great  tempter  of  mankind.  He  was 
weakened  by  hunger ;  and  his  hunger  may  have 
been  aggravated,  as  has  been  suggested,  by  the 
very  appearance  of  the  stones  which  strewed  the 
ground,  and  which  in  that  region  have  the  shape 
of  little  loaves  of  bread.  Satan  began  his  assault 
by  urging  Jesus  to  use  his  divine  power  in  chan- 
ging these  stones  into  actual  loaves,  and  thus  to 
appease  his  hunger.  It  was  a  very  plausible  temp- 
tation. "Here  thou  art,  the  Son  of  God,  the 
powers  of  heaven  at  thy  command.  Why  shouldst 
thou  suffer  from  a  vulgar,  human  need  ?  It  should 
be  no  hard  thing  for  thee  to  make  a  loaf  out  of  a 
stone.  If  thou  be  the  Son  of  God,  command  that 
these  stones  be  made  bread." 

Now,  this  temptation  was  aimed  at  Jesus  as  an 
individual,  and  as  the  head  and  representative  of  a 
kingdom.  Addressed  to  Christ  as  an  individual, 
it  was  intended  to  make  him  commit  himself  to  the 


GOD   AND   BREAD.  5 

admission  that  his  life  could  be  sustained  only  by 
external  and  visible  means.  If  Christ  had  yielded, 
he  would  have  said,  in  so  doing,  "  Bread  is  indispen- 
sable to  the  support  of  life.  I  can  live  only  as  I 
shall  have  bread.    I  shall  perish  if  I  do  not  have  it." 

But  suppose  the  tempter  had  quoted  Scripture, 
as  he  did  a  little  later,  and  had  cited  the  story  of 
the  manna  in  the  wilderness,  and  had  clinched  that 
with  those  verses  of  the  seventy-eighth  Psalm :  "  He 
rained  down  manna  upon  them  to  eat,  and  had 
given  them  of  the  corn  of  heaven.  Man  did  eat 
angels'  food :  he  sent  them  meat  to  the  full." 
Suppose  he  had  said,  "  As  the  Son  of  God,  do  you 
profess  to  be  more  scrupulous  than  God  himself '* 
He  wrought  a  miracle  for  his  hungry  children :  why 
should  you  hesitate  to  do  the  same  for  yourself?" 

Our  Lord's  answer  included  this  very  case,  and 
was  pointed  directly  at  it ;  since  his  words  are  a 
quotation  of  Moses'  words  to  the  Israelites  in  his 
review  of  their  history.  God's  intent  in  the  mi- 
raculous giving  of  the  manna  —  a  new,  special  tJiing, 
created  for  the  special  need  —  was  to  show  the 
people  that  their  life  depended  directly  upon  him, 
and  not  upon  ordinary  means  of  support.  Cut  off, 
as  they  were,  from  their  accustomed  food,  they 
should,  nevertheless,  be  fed,  and  drink  abundantly, 
through  God's  special  bounty.  They  should  not 
starve  because  the  wilderness  did  not  furnish  the 
products  of  the  Nile  valley,  not  even  if  it  were 
utterly  barren.  There  was  a  purpose  in  God's 
giving  them  an  unfamiliar  article  of  food,  and  in 
giving  it  through  unfamiliar  channels.    Their  own 


b  GOD  AND  BREAD. 

exertions  had  nothing  to  do  with  their  subsistence, 
beyond  gathering  each  day's  supply  at  their  tent- 
doors.  The  nature  of  the  supply  left  no  room  for 
them  to  boast  of  their  own  enterprise  or  prudence 
in  their  journey  through  the  desert.  Hence  Moses 
says,  "  He  humbled  thee,  and  suffered  thee  to  hun- 
ger, and  fed  thee  with  manna,  which  thou  knewest 
not,  neither  did  thy  fathers  know;  that  he  might 
make  thee  know  that  man  doth  not  live  by  bread 
only,  but  by  every  word  that  proceedeth  out  of  the 
mouth  of  the  Lord  doth  man  live."  ^ 

Here,  then,  the  two  theories  of  living  are  square- 
ly confronted.  Satan,  as  the  prince  of  this  world, 
announces  his,  and  tries  to  win  Christ's  assent  to 
it:  '•''Man  lives  hy  breads  and  by  bread  alone." 
Christ  replies :  "  Man  lives  not  by  bread,  but  by 
God."  Man  lives  by  God's  gifts,  only  as  God  is 
behind  them.  Man's  real  support  is  not  in  the 
gifts,  but  in  the  Giver. 

What  is  covered  by  this  word  "  bread  "  '^ 
It  covers  the  whole  visible  economy  of  life,  —  all 
that  range  of  supplies,  helps,  and  supports  upon 
which  men  usually  depend  to  keep  themselves 
alive,  and  to  make  life  comfortable  and  enjoyable. 
It  covers  the  whole  economy  of  food  and  drink, 
clothing,  shelter,  ministry  to  the  senses,  to  power, 
respectability,  and  worldly  honor.  The  world's 
commonly  accepted  theory  is.  By  these  things  we 
live.  We  cannot  get  on  without  them.  Do  you  need 
to  be  told  how  widely  that  theory  prevails  in  soci- 

'  Deut.  viii.  3. 


GOD   AND   BREAD.  7 

ety  to-day  ?  For  what  are  the  mass  of  men  spend- 
ing their  energies  ?  For  food  and  raiment  and 
position,  —  for  the  abundance  and  superfluity  of 
these  things.  Not  for  slielter  merely,  but  for  costly 
homes.  Not  for  competency  merely,  but  for  wealth, 
and  t^asMvealth;  the  plain  inference  being,  "We 
cannot  have  too  much  of  such  things :  a  man's 
life  does  consist  in  the  abundance  of  the  things 
which  he  possesses." 

Now,  I  am  not  blind  to  men's  natural  and  par- 
donable anxiety  about  such  things.  Food  and  rai- 
ment and  home  are  parts  of  Crod  's  own  economy  of 
life  in  this  world ;  and  Christ  himself  says,  "  Your 
heavenly  Father  knoweth  that  ye  have  need  of  all 
these  things."  But  I  am  speaking  of  the  false 
position  in  which  men  put  these  things, — of  their 
tendency  to  separate  them  from  God,  and  to  seek 
to  live  by  them  alone.  While  Christ  says,  "  Your 
Father  knoweth  that  ye  have  need  of  these,"  he 
forbids  men  to  hold  them  alone  or  first  in  their 
thought.  Something  is  to  take  precedence  of  the 
gifts,  and  that  is  the  Giver.  The  gifts  are  to  be 
sought  through  the  Giver.  Men  often  seek  food 
and  raiment  without  reference  to  God,  and  often 
in  ways  forbidden  by  God :  whereas  Christ  says, 
"  Seek  God  first,  seek  to  be  under  his  rule,  seek 
to  be  right  according  to  his  law,  and  the  food  and 
raiment  will  come  with  these."  The  kingdom  of 
God  includes  bread ;  and  hence,  in  the  Lord's 
Prayer,  immediately  after  the  petition,  "  Thy  king- 
dom come.  Thy  will  be  done,"  comes  the  prayer  for 
daily  bread. 


8  GOD   AND   BREAD. 

Man  lives  hy  God,  in  direct  dependence  on  God. 
God  may  use,  and  does  commonly  use,  natural 
means  for  man's  support;  but  God  is  not  limited 
to  these.  Men  think  he  is.  When  these  means  dis- 
appear, they  think  all  is  over.  But  they  forget  that 
these  things  derive  all  their  power  to  sustain  and 
to  delight  from  God.  It  is  God  alone  that  gives 
any  value  or  efficiency  to  these.  Men  say  that 
the  secret  of  life  is  to  be  in  right  relations  to  the 
world.  God  says,  '■'  You  are  in  right  relation  to 
nothing  until  you  are  right  with  me.  You  are 
nothing  at  all,  —  not  so  much  as  that  red  leaf 
driven  by  the  wind,  which  lies  now  over  a  gold- 
mine, and  now  on  the  roof  of  a  hovel ;  nothing, 
save  as  I  uphold  you,  and  send  you  your  food, 
and  give  it  power  to  nourish  you,  and  to  please 
your  palate.  Dainties  are  no  better  than  chaff  if 
I  do  not  impart  their'quality.  Let  me  withdraw 
my  hand,  and  see  what  they  will  do  for  you." 

The  very  structure  of  the  body  asserts  that  man 
was  intended  to  eat  and  drink.  The  earth  was 
commanded  by  God  to  bring  forth  fruit  for  the  ser- 
vice of  man.  The  facts  of  heat  and  cold  and  tem- 
pest suggest  clothing  and  shelter.  If  man  lives  in  a 
spiritual  economy,  he  also  lives  in  a  natural  econ- 
omy, to  which  he  is  plainly  adapted  by  his  Creator, 
and  which  is  as  plainly  adapted  to  meet  his  condi- 
tions. But  Nature  everywhere  points  beyond  her- 
self. The  nature  of  man  points  up  to  God.  If 
that  is  first  which  is  natural,  it  is  only  first  in 
order  of  succession,  not  of  importance.  If  the  physi- 
cal life  of  the  babe  precedes  the  intellectual  and 


GOD   AND   BREAD.  9 

moral  life  of  the  strong  man,  the  intellectual  and 
moral  life  is  none  the  less  the  higher  stage  of  be- 
ing. If  God  so  arranges  the  physical  life  of  man 
that  it  is  sustained  ordinarily  by  food,  it  is  that  the 
physical  life  should  suggest  the  higher  life  of  the 
soul,  and  the  bread  the  Giver  of  the  bread.  Why, 
in  ordinary  matters  men  recognize  this  principle 
clearly  enough,  that,  ultimately,  the  great  forces 
on  which  they  depend  for  the  common  transactions 
of  life  are  not  material.  A  cable  despatch  comes  to 
you  across  the  Atlantic.  You  know  that  it  passed 
over  a  wire ;  you  know  that  it  was  borne  by  an 
electric  current;  but  you  also  know  that  neither 
wire  nor  current  nor  telegraphic  key  is  of  any 
avail  until  a  human  mind  brings  them  into  com- 
bination. The  cable  will  not  carry  messages  of 
itself.  You  do  not  for  a  moment  think  that  iron 
and  fire  and  water  only  carry  you  over  the  rails 
from  New  York  to  San  Francisco.  Mind  and  will 
must  adjust  and  apply  these  agents.  No  more  will 
bread  avail  without  God.  Behind  all  this  physical 
economy,  to  which  bread  is  the  visible  minister,  are 
the  divine  Mind  and  Will,  creating  and  adjusting 
the  human  oiganism  and  its  minister  alike.  Every 
thing  depends  on  that  divine  Mind  and  Will. 

And  in  proof  of  this,  God  has  now  and  then  put 
men  in  places  where  the  physical  ministry  failed, 
and  has  shown  them,  that,  if  need  were,  he  could 
sustain  their  life  without  it.  Moses  was  with  him 
on  the  summit  of  that  barren  mountain  for  forty 
days,  nourished  by  no  mortal  food.  Elijah  trav- 
elled in  the  strength  of  a  single  meal  for  forty 


10  GOD   AND   BREAD. 

days.  God  has  only  to  say  "Live,"  and  man  lives, 
and  continues  to  live  whether  there  is  bread  or 
not.  Says  Jeremy  Taylor,  "If  the  flesh-pots  be 
removed,  He  can  alter  the  appetite ;  and  when  our 
stock  is  spent.  He  can  also  lessen  the  necessity : 
or,  if  that  continues.  He  can  drown  the  sense  of 
it  in  a  deluge  of  patience  and  resignation."  And 
Wesley  writes,  — 

"  Man  doth  not  live  bj'  bread  alone : 
Wkate'er  thou  wilt,  can  feed. 
Thy  power  converts  the  bread  to  stone, 
And  turns  the  stone  to  bread. 

Thou  art  our  food ;  we  taste  thee  now. 

In  thee  we  move  and  breathe. 
Our  bodies'  only  life  art  thou, 

And  all  beside  is  death." 

But  I  have  said,  that  Christ  appeared  in  this 
temptation  as  the  head  and  representative  of  a 
kingdom :  whatever  rule  or  policy  he  might  adopt 
for  himself  would  give  the  law  for  his  followers. 

If,  then,  our  Lord  had  yielded  to  this  first 
temptation,  he  would  have  committed  himself  to 
the  hread-theory  as  the  law  of  his  kingdom,  no 
less  than  of  his  own  life.  He  would  have  said, 
by  changing  the  stones  into  bread,  "As /cannot 
live  without  bread,  so  my  kingdom  cannot  thrive 
so  long  as  men's  worldly  needs  are  unsupplied. 
My  administration  must  be  a  turning  of  stones 
into  bread.  It  must  make  men  happj-  by  at  once 
miraculously  removing  all  want  and  suffering  from 
the  world,  and  inaugurating  an  era  of  worldly 
prosperity." 


GOD   AND   BREAD.  11 

We  know  that  this  has  not  been  Christ's  policy. 
He  abjured  it  in  this  answer  to  Satan.  He  did, 
indeed,  mean  that  a  time  should  come  when  the 
wilderness  and  the  solitary  place  should  be  glad ; 
but  that  was  to  be  the  result  of  holiness^  of  the 
subjection  of  society  to  a  King,  the  girdle  of  whose 
loins  should  be  righteousness.  This  is  what  Christ 
asserts,  that  society^  no  less  than  man  as  an  indi- 
vidual, truly  lives  only  as  it  lives  by  dependence 
on  God.  Social  prosperity  is  based  on  righteous- 
ness. It  would  be  possible  to  test  the  matter  on 
a  small  scale.  Suppose  that  a  man  of  immense 
wealth  and  grand  administrative  power  should 
have  a  little  town  of  a  thousand  people  given  to 
him  in  charge,  with  absolute  authority  to  rule  it, 
and  to  develop  its  resources  in  his  own  way.  Sup- 
pose the  man  to  say,  "  Yes,  I  will  make  this  people 
as  happy  as  a  community  can  be.  I  will  build 
comfortable  homes  for  those  who  are  poor.  I  will 
give  each  of  these  poor  families  a  competence.  I 
will  educate  all  these  ignorant  ones.  Poverty  and 
squalor  shall  disappear.  The  sanitary  arrange- 
ments shall  be  perfect.  There  shall  be  no  foul 
pools  to  breed  miasma.  There  shall  be  pure  water 
and  good  ventilation."  If  the  plan  embraced 
nothing  more,  the  man,  however  in  earnest  and 
philanthropic,  would  be  doing  precisely  what  the 
Devil  wanted  Christ  to  do.  He  would  have  the 
power  —  which  to  those  poor  people  would  be  as 
good  as  miraculous  —  of  changing  bodily  misery 
to  comfort,  stones  to  bread.  His  theory  would  be 
the   bread-theory,  prosperity  through   the  supply 


12  GOD  AND   BREAD. 

of  physical  need.  Do  you  think  that  would  be  a 
happy  community?  Do  you  think  that  a  society 
which  should  recognize  God  nowhere  would  be 
a  peaceful,  well-ordered  body?  Do  you  think 
that  good  homes  and  good  food  and  ventilation 
would  keep  out  passion  and  greed,  or  do  away 
with  depraved  appetites  ?  No.  Culture  would 
only  refine  selfishness.  Competency  would  furnish 
greater  power  for  mischief.  Natural  differences 
of  talent  and  energy  would  assert  themselves,  and 
call  out  the  envy  which  attaches  to  such  differ- 
ences. The  members  of  that  community,  in  short, 
would  be  no  happier  with  bread,  and  without  God, 
than  they  were  without  either  God  or  bread,  and 
would  be  infinitely  more  dangerous.  The  bread- 
theory  is  the  radical  weakness  of  communism,  in 
that  it  contemplates  only  the  adjustment  of  out- 
ward conditions  and  the  satisfaction  of  natural 
appetites.  There  must  be,  as  we  all  know,  a  mate- 
rial basis  in  society,  just  as  there  must  be  an 
underground  foundation  for  a  palace.  That  is  not 
first  which  is  spiritual ;  but  when  you  look  down 
into  an  excavation,  and  see  great  foundations  laid, 
you  say,  "A  house  is  to  be  built  here.  That 
foundation  means  a  house,  or  it  means  nothing." 
So,  if  civilization  is  only  a  matter  of  material 
forces,  of  steam  and  electricity,  of  telephones  and 
sewing-machines,  of  drainage  and  ventilation ;  nay, 
if  it  add  to  these,  taste  and  culture,  libraries  and 
art-galleries,  and  leave  out  God  and  conscience, 
and  faith  and  worship,  —  it  is  only  a  foimdatmi, 
daily  emphasizing  the  lack  of  its  superstructure. 


GOD  AND   BREAD.  13 

Civilization,  without  God  and  righteousness,  is 
mere  cellarage.  The  community  which  lives  by 
bread,  without  God,  does  not  truly  live. 

History  repeats  itself.  In  these  modern  days 
one  finds  himself  rummaging  the  pages  of  Gibbon 
and  Tacitus  and  Juvenal.  Look  at  those  old 
empires  which  lived  by  bread  alone ;  by  riches  so 
enormous  that  it  seems  as  if  God  had  determined 
to  give  money  a  chance  to  do  its  best ;  living  by 
power  so  vast  that  there  were  no  more  worlds  to 
conquer;  living  by  pleasure  so  prodigal  and  so 
refined  and  varied  that  the  liveliest  invention 
was  exhausted,  and  the  keenest  appetite  surfeited. 
Babylon,  Rome,  Antioch,  Alexandria,  Carthage,  — 
to-day  you  dare  not  open  to  your  children  the 
records  of  the  inner  life  of  these  communities. 
You  almost  hesitate  to  read  its  fearful  summary  in 
the  first  chapter  of  Paul's  Epistle  to  the  Romans. 

And  what  of  ourselves?  what  of  this  nine- 
teenth-century civilization  in  America,  to  go  no 
farther  ?  What  is  our  measure  of  progress  ?  Has 
this  civilization  advanced  in  the  measure  in  which 
it  has  woven  rich  stuffs,  carved  statues,  painted 
pictures,  wrought  cunningly  in  gold  and  ivory, 
and  written  with  grace  and  power?  Other  and 
earlier  centuries  have  these  to  show  as  well  as  we. 
In  many  of  these  things  we  still  take  our  lessons 
from  them.  No,  truly.  When  the  civilizations 
of  the  world  sent  their  representative  products  to 
Philadelphia,  the  true  key  and  test  of  that  vast 
exhibition  of  human  achievement  were  in  one  little 
case  —  where  the  word  of  God,  translated  into  the 


14  GOD  AND  BREAD. 

various  tongues  of  the  earth,  was  spread  before 
the  spectator.  Just  so  far  as  the  principles  of 
that  book  are  behind  and  beneath  tlie  material 
display,  does  it  mark  a  real  progress.  The  nation, 
like  the  man,  lives  truly,  only  as  it  lives  by  God, 
and  not  by  bread  alone.  I  look  back  to  the  barren 
mountain  of  the  temptation.  I  see,  rising  before 
the  eyes  of  the  weak  and  exhausted  Son  of  man, 
the  vision  of  the  kingdoms  of  this  world  and  their 
glory,  vested  with  the  witching  glamour  of  satanic 
sorcery.  I  hear  the  stupendous  offer  of  the  whole 
mass  of  the  kingdoms  which  know  not  God,  with 
all  their  pomp  of  art  and  learning,  of  fleets  and 
armies,  all  on  the  simple  condition  of  accepting 
the  law  of  life  by  bread  instead  of  life  by  God. 
And  that  picture  is  lifted  up  to-day,  amid  the 
crazy  rush  of  the  exchange  and  the  crash  of  fall- 
ing fortunes,  as  a  silent  reminder  that  the  world's 
great  pattern  of  life  chose  life  by  God,  —  though 
there  went  with  it  the  desert,  and  Gethsemane, 
and  the  cross,  and  the  long,  sad  centuries  of  the 
growth  of  righteousness,  —  rather  than  life  by 
bread,  with  its  quick  and  superficial  triumphs,  and 
the  gilded  glory  of  Satan's  kingdom.  Through  all 
time,  until  the  kingdom  of  God  shall  have  fully 
come,  his  voice  will  make  itself  heard  above  the 
roar  of  traffic  and  the  whirl  of  dissipation,  — 
"  Thou  shalt  worship  the  Lord  thy  God,  and  him 
only  shalt  thou  serve." 

And  suppose  bread  fails.  Suppose  the  body 
literally  starves,  and  the  man  dies^  as  we  say. 
Is    Christ's    theory    disproved?      By    no    means. 


GOD   AND   BREAD  16 

Christ's  choice  led  him  to  the  cross,  and  many  a 
follower  of  his  has  been  forced  to  choose  between 
the  bread-theory  and  death.  When  God  says  that 
man  shall  live  by  his  word,  he  means  by  "  life " 
far  more  than  the  little  span  of  human  years,  with 
their  eating  and  drinking  and  pleasure  and  gain- 
getting.  This  utterance  of  the  world's  Redeemer 
assumes  the  fact  of  immortality.  If  not,  the 
theory  of  life  by  God  is  branded;  and  there  is 
nothing  for  us  but  the  bread-theory :  "  Let  us  eat 
and  drink;  for  to-morrow  we  die."  To  live  by 
the  word  of  God  is  to  share  the  eternal  life  of 
God.  The  bread-life  is  but  the  prelude  and  faint 
type  of  this.  It  gets  all  its  real  meaning  and 
value  from  this.  Human  life  is  nothing  if  it  does 
not  foreshadow  the  larger  life  of  eternity;'  and 
when  the  lower  physical  life  fails  for  lack  of 
bread,  the  man  does  not  cease  to  live ;  he  only 
begins  to  live,  and  to  prove  that  if  man  cannot 
live  by  bread  alone,  he  can  live  by  God  alone. 

Here,  then,  we  have  Christ's  theory  of  life,  in- 
dividual and  social.  Man  lives  by  God's  gifts,  but 
not  by  the  gifts  only.  By  bread,  but  not  by  bread 
alone.  Bread  is  nothing  without  God.  Bread  gets 
all  its  power  to  feed  from  God.  Bread  points 
away  from  itself  to  God.  Bread  has  a  part  in  the 
divine  economy  of  society ;  but  it  comes  in  with 
the  kingdom  of  God,  under  its  law,  and  not  as  its 
substitute. 

In  such  disturbances  as  those  of  the  past  week, 
it  is  well  that  men  take  heed  lest  their  anxiety 
should  throw  them  upon  Satan's  bread-theory,  and 


16  GOD  AND   BREAD. 

divert  them  from  the  counter  theory  of  life  by 
God.  We  cannot,  being  human,  be  entirely  free 
from  care.  At  any  rate,  we  are.  not.  But  this  we 
can  do,  by  God  s  help :  we  can  keep  it  constantly 
before  us,  that  our  life,  after  all,  is  not  in  these 
material  things.  The  loss  of  the  material  gift  does 
not  carry  with  it  the  loss  of  the  divine  Giver. 
The  man  who  lives  by  bread  alone  has  nothing 
when  bread  is  gone.  He  may  run  down  the  whole 
line  of  his  reserves,  and  find  nothing  which  is  be- 
yond the  possibility  of  disaster.  But  you  who  live 
by  God,  when  you  reach  back  to  what  lies  behind 
bread,  find  the  best  of  your  treasure,  which  moth 
and  rust  cannot  corrupt,  nor  thieves  break  tiirough 
and  steal.  Face  the  question  to-day ;  it  is  a  good 
time,  in  the  presence  of  these  hard  tests.  What 
is  my  theory  of  life  ?  Is  it  Christ,  or  Satan  ?  Is 
it  bread  alone^  or  bread  with  God  ?  Ask  yourself, 
"•  Where  is  my  heart  fixed  most  of  the  time  ?  Is 
it  on  God,  as  my  life  ?  or  is  it  on  my  stocks  and 
securities  and  ventures  ?  "  And,  ere  you  answer 
the  question,  call  up  the  words  of  your  Lord  and 
Saviour,  "  Where  your  treasure  is,  there  will  your 
heart  be  also."  The  practical  working  of  the  two 
theories  is  written  down  in  lines  which  he  that  runs, 
may  read.  Before  you  is  the  picture  of  the  Man 
of  Sorrows,  who  had  not  where  to  lay  his  head» 
reviled  and  spoken  against,  walking  by  his  hard 
road  to  the  garden  and  to  the  cross,  and  yet  delib- 
erately choosing  to  live  by  God  rather  than  by 
bread ;  and  you  see  the  choice  vindicated  by  the 
peace  and  poise  of  that  life,  by  the  enthusiasm  of 


GOD   AND   BREAD.  17 

its  faith,  by  its  heavenly  joy  in  its  work,  by  its 
ever-growing  power  over  the  life  of  the  world,  by 
the  adoration  and  love  and  praise  daily  wafted 
towards  it  from  millions  of  souls:  and  all  this 
while  the  worldly  dominion  he  refused  has  proved 
a  vanished  shadow,  while  the  old  empires  have 
gone  down  in  ruin,  and  their  pleasures  have  turned 
to  a  corruption  which  is  an  offence  in  the  world's 
nostrils.  The  old  city  which  rang  with  the  cry  of 
"  Bread  and  the  Circus ! "  is  only  a  monument  now. 
The  tourist  wanders  over  the  Palatine,  and  peers 
down  into  the  choked  vaults  of  the  Caesars'  pal- 
aces ;  and  the  antiquarian  rummages  where  Nero's 
fish-ponds  gleamed,  and  climbs  along  the  broken 
tiers  of  the  Coliseum,  from  which  the  culture  and 
beauty  and  fashion  of  Rome  looked  down  with 
delight  upon  Christian  martyrs  in  the  fangs  of 
tigers. 

As  you  look  on  this  picture,  surely  you  will  take 
fresh  heart;  surely  you  will  win  a  new  faith  in 
Christ's  theory ;  surely  you  will  not  dare,  with  the 
glory  of  that  life  before  you,  to  take  the  baser  the- 
ory of  the  prince  of  this  world,  to  choose  the  life 
which  is  by  bread  alone !  You  have  seen  more 
than  one  man  who  lived  by  bread  alone  find  his  the- 
ory of  life  fail.  You  have  seen  liim,  when  bread 
failed,  go  down,  down,  heart-broken,  dishonored, 
ruined,  reputation  gone,  conscience  stained,  honor 
blighted,  manhood  wrecked,  nothmg  left ;  but  you 
never  saw,  and  you  never  will  see,  such  a  catastro- 
phe befall  a  man  who  lived  by  God.  When  the 
silver  and  the  gold  are  gone,  he  has  the  God  who 


18  GOD  AND  BREAD. 

holds  the  treasures  of  the  earth  in  liis  hand.  He 
lias  manhood  untainted,  his  best  self  untouched, 
and  round  him  the  strong  arm  of  Him  who  says, 
"  Cast  all  thy  care  on  me.  I  will  never  leave  thee, 
nor  forsake  thee." 


II. 

DOES   IT   PA\M 


II. 

DOES   IT   PAY  ? 

"  For  what  shall  a  man  be  profited,  if  he  shall  gain  the  whole 
world,  and  forfeit  his  life  ?  or  what  shall  a  man  give  in  exchange 
for  his  life  ?  "  —  Matt.  xvi.  26. 

"/COMMONPLACE  is  contemptible,"  is  the  ver- 
y~y  diet  of  modern  culture.  Not  of  modern  cul- 
ture only :  the  Athenians,  we  are  told,  were  equally 
impatient  of  it,  and  spent  their  time  in  nothing 
else  but  either  to  hear  or  to  tell  some  new  thing. 
But  is  this  a  true  verdict?  Stone  pavements,  for 
instance,  are  very  commonplace  to  us ;  so  much 
so,  that  we  have  ceased  to  be  conscious  of  them, 
and  walk  or  ride  over  them  all  day  long  without 
a  thought  of  what  we  are  treading  on.  When  the 
street  is  torn  up,  when  we  come  to  a  muddy  gap 
in  our  accustomed  track,  we  wake  up  to  the  fact, 
that,  in  a  city,  stone  pavements  count  for  a  good 
deal.  Nobody  takes  notice  of  lamp-posts;  they 
are  very  commonplace :  but  let  the  lights  go  out 
all  over  the  city,  and  we  begin  to  find  out  how 
large  a  part  they  play  in  our  convenience  and 
safety.  The  fact  is,  that  the  best  things  in  our 
lives  are  the  commonplace  and  familiar  things,  — 
the  senses,  health,  home,  reading,  and  writing.     It 

21 


22  DOES  IT  PAY? 

is  often  the  highest  praise  of  a  thing  that  it  has 
become  commonplace.  A  thing  which  has  no 
value  does  not  pass  into  common  use.  The  best 
thing  that  can  be  said  of  bread  is,  that  everybody 
uses  it. 

So  of  texts  of  Scripture.  Certain  texts  carry  a 
flavor  of  novelty,  while  others  are  household  words. 
Our  text  to-day  is  one  of  these  latter.  I  suppose 
every  preacher  in  Christendom  has  preached  upon 
it  some  time  or  other.  It  is  more  than  doubtful 
if  any  thing  new  can  be  said  about  it ;  and  yet 
that  is  the  best  reason  for  preaching  about  it :  for 
this  text  is  to  Christianity  just  what  the  solid 
ground  is  to  our  business  and  building,  just  what 
bread  is  to  our  living.  It  is  a  shaft  that  opens 
down  into  the  very  heart  and  centre  of  the  gospel, 
and  branches  off  under  the  whole  Bible.  No 
reader  or  preacher  of  the  Bible  can  escape  the 
truth  it  tells.  He  must  run  against  it  if  he  reads 
the  Bible  at  all. 

What,  then,  is  the  truth  ?  It  takes  the  form  of 
a  question  of  value,  —  a  question  which,  in  some 
shape,  interests  us  all.  It  is  thrown  into  the  set- 
ting of  the  market-place.  All  life  is  a  bid  for 
something,  —  that  something,  whatever  it  be,  which 
each  of  us  calls  his  end  or  object  in  life.  That 
sometliing  we  want;  and  for  it  we  are.  willing  to 
pay  a  price,,  —  our  labor,  our  pains,  our  best 
thought,  our  temporary  rest  and  comfort  some- 
times. I  seem  to  see  the  great  market  in  the 
fresh  morning.  The  young,  vigorous  forms,  and 
the  bright,  eager  faces  are  pouring  in  at  the  gate. 


DOES  IT  PAY?  23 

There  is  one  thing  up  at  auction,  though  there 
seem  to  be  many.  It  is  the  world.  Here  one 
cries  up  honors  !  —  literary,  military,  civic  honors, 
—  praise  of  men,  flattering  of  crowds,  flaming  par- 
agraphs in  the  newspapers  ;  social  honors,  —  hom- 
age to  beauty,  society  at  your  feet.  Here  is  a  rival 
vender.  Pleasures  !  what  infinite  variety  !  appeals 
to  every  sense,  suited  to  all  tastes ;  coarser  wares 
for  the  coarser  grained,  and  subtler  enjoyments  for 
the  {Esthetic ;  pleasures  of  meat  and  drink,  pleas- 
ures of  luxurious  ease,  pleasures  of  artistic  study  ; 
the  wildest  excitements,  the  most  delicious  lan- 
guors; pleasures  of  color  and  of  sound  and  of 
perfume,  —  all  going,  going  cheap  !  In  another 
corner,  wealth !  close  beside  it,  power !  The  world 
is  on  sale.  Do  monks  and  puritans  tell  us  it  is  a 
"  fleeting  show  "  ?  Ha !  it  is  a  good  world,  full  of 
good  things.  And  the  silks  and  jewels  rustle  and 
sparkle,  and  the  banners  wave,  and  the  trumpets 
sound,  and  the  gold  chinks,  and  the  sweet  odors 
rise  in  rich  steams,  and  the  air  is  laden  with  sweet 
harmonies,  and  glowing  with  lovely  hues.  A  good 
world,  and  going  so  cheap  too  !  something  within 
the  reach  of  everybody :  who  will  buy  ?  Do  you 
wonder  that  young  eyes  grow  brighter,  and  young 
cheeks  flush,  and  young  hearts  beat  quicker  ?  So 
much  for  youth,  especially.  Why,  the  world  is  for 
youth.  Hope,  love,  pleasure,  —  they  are  all  for 
youth.  I  seem  to  see,  in  the  midst  of  that  eager 
throng,  one  who  appears  far  more  interested  in 
the  buyers  than  in  the  wares.  With  a  wonderful 
blending   of  majesty,   affection,  and   sadness,   he 


24  DOES  IT   PAY? 

scans  the  young  traders  as  they  crowd  round  the 
booths.  And  now  I  see  him  lay  a  hand  —  a  hand 
with  a  strange  mark  on  it  —  upon  the  shoulder  of 
an  eager  youth,  who  is  crowding  forward,  and  bid- 
ding high  and  eagerly  ;  and,  as  the  youth  turns  im- 
patiently, he  gazes  into  his  face  with  a  look  which 
seems  to  go  down  to  the  deepest  secret  of  his  heart, 
with  a  love  which  disarms  resentment,  and  says, 
"  Wait  a  little.  There  is  time  enough  to  buy  here. 
One  question  only:  that  thing  which  you  want, 
and  for  which  you  have  just  bidden  so  much,  what 
shall  it  profit  you  ?  " 

I  have  only  tlirown  into  a  kind  of  allegory  what 
is  actually  going  on.  I  have  merely  used  a  fancy 
to  carry  a  fact.  I  want  you  to  see  and  feel  the 
fact,  if  you  will,  the  fact  that  the  world  is  bidding 
for  your  homage,  your  allegiance,  your  love,  your 
energy.  It  is  a  fact  that  the  world  appeals  to  you 
to  accept  its  rules,  its  customs,  its  modes  of  tliink- 
ing,  its  ends  of  living.  It  is  a  fact  that  the  Lord 
Christ  says  to  every  one  of  you,  "Suppose  you 
get  it.  Suppose  you  make  it  all  yours,  all  the 
kingdoms  of  the  world  and  the  glory  of  them,  — 
what  good  is  it  going  to  do  you  ?  You  are  about 
making  a  bargain :  of  course  you  want  to  make  a 
profitable  one.  Well,  what  shall  it  profit  you  if 
you  gain  the  whole  world,  and  lose  ■  your  own 
life?" 

Notice,  then,  what  our  Lord  tells  you  in  this  text. 
First,  that  your  choice  of  a  principle  and  end  of 
living  involves  an  exchange.  You  get  nothing  in 
life,  good  or  bad,  without  cost.     You  know  very 


DOES   IT  PAY?  25 

well,  that,  if  you  are  to  succeed  in  business,  you 
will  do  it  at  the  cost  of  leisure  and  ease  and 
amusement.  You  must  work  when  you  would 
rather  rest.  You  must  stay  in  the  hot,  dusty  city, 
when  you  would  rather  be  among  the  cool  hills, 
or  down  by  the  breezy  sea.  If  you  would  suc- 
ceed in  medicine,  you  must  conquer  your  natural 
repugnance  to  disgusting  sights  and  odors.  If 
in  literature,  you  must  shut  yourself  up  with 
books,  and  toil  while  others  sleep.  No  man  ever 
leaped  into  a  success  of  any  kind  without  cost  to 
himself.  Success  is  always  paid  for  with  some 
coin  or  other.  Do  you  expect  you  will  win  moral 
success,  spiritual  victory,  on  any  other  terms? 
Is  this  grandest  and  highest  of  successes  going  to 
be  poured  into  your  lap  as  a  free  gift,  for  nothing  ? 
Secondly,  look  then,  at  the  nature  of  exchange 
in  this  particular  case.  What  do  you  pay,  suppos- 
ing you  buy  the  world  ?  You  have  passed  many  a 
shop  in  cities,  in  the  window  of  which  you  have 
read,  "  price  fixed."  The  vender  would  have  you 
know  that  you  need  not  try  to  beat  him  down. 
He  will  take  so  much,  and  no  less.  If  you  want 
the  article,  take  it  at  that  price :  if  you  do  not  care 
to  pay  that  price,  let  it  alone.  That  exactly  rep- 
resents the  case  here.  If  you  buy  the  world,  you 
pay  a  definite  price  for  it,  a  price  from  which  there 
is  no  discount  to  the  most  favored  buyer ;  and  that 
price  is  your  life.  You  see  our  Lord  is  not  merely 
putting  a  supj3osed  case,  a  bare  possibility,  as  if 
it  might  possibly  happen  that  a  man  should  do 
so  monstrous  a  thing  as  to  lose  his  life  for  the 


26  DOES  IT  PAY? 

sake  of  the  world :  he  states  it  as  a  principle^  a 
universal  fact,  that  the  man  who  takes  the  world 
takes  it  at  the  price  of  his  life.  For  you  will  notice 
that  the  text  is  only  the  conclusion  of  the  state- 
ment in  the  previous  verses,  about  which  there 
cannot  be  any  doubt.  "  Suppose  a  man  wants  to 
come  after  me,"  says  our  Lord.  "  He  pays  for  the 
privilege  this  price ;  namely,  that  he  denies  self,  and 
takes  up  the  cross.  Suppose  a  man  wants  to  keep 
his  life,  his  worldly,  selfish,  lower  life ;  to  live  for 
self,  as  we  say  ;  to  keep  his  pleasures,  his  pursuits, 
his  studies,  under  the  economy  of  this  world.  He 
can  do  it.  He  can  save  that  life,  but  only  at  the 
expense  of  his  real  life,  liis  better,  Chiistlike  self, 
which  Christ  stands  ready  to  develop  in  him.  He 
that  would  save  his  life  shall  lose  it."  If  the  neat, 
smooth,  wheat-corn  should  say,  "  This  form  of  life 
is  good  enough  for  me  :  I  prefer  to  remain  as  I  am. 
I  do  not  like  going  into  the  dark  earth,  and  part- 
ing with  my  identity,"  all  that  could  be  answered 
would  be,  "  Very  well.  Remain  as  you  are  ;  only, 
the  price  of  your  remaining  is  the  forfeiture  of  that 
higher,  more  beautiful  form  of  life, — the  bearded 
stalk  with  its  multiplied  grains."  The  higher  life 
is  at  the  expense  of  the  lower.  "  Except  a  corn  of 
wheat  fall  into  the  ground  and  die,  it  abideth 
alone."  If  it  bring  forth  fruit,  if  it. would  save 
the  lovelier,  richer  life,  it  must  lose  the  other  form 
of  life.  If  a  man  wants  his  shoulder  free  of  the 
cross,  he  can  have  it  so ;  only,  he  forfeits  what- 
ever good  comes  of  being  Christ's  disciple.  The 
two  things  exclude  each  other.     You  cannot  have 


DOES  IT   PAY  ?  27 

Christ  and  self  too  ;  you  cannot  follow  Christ,  and 
be  crossless ;  you  cannot  live  partly  in  the  higher, 
and  partly  in  the  lower,  life  :  you  must  choose  be- 
tween them  ;  and,  whichever  you  choose,  you  pay 
for  it  with  the  other. 

Here,  then,  is  Christ's  fixed  price,  —  Your  life 
for  the  world.  He  states  it  to  you  here :  he 
hears  you  bid  for  the  world,  and  he  asks  you, 
"What  then?  Is  it  a  good  purchase?  If  so,  you 
ought  to  be  able  to  tell  why."  You  pay  what 
seems  to  me  an  extravagant  price  for  a  piece  of 
land,  and  jet  there  may  really  be  no  extravagance 
about  it.  You  may  have  special  reasons  for  desir- 
ing that  situation,  —  reasons  which  make  it  more 
valuable  to  you  than  it  could  be  to  any  other  man ; 
only  you  can  surely  give  those  reasons.  You  can 
surely  show  that  you  are  getting  your  money's 
worth.  So  Christ  says  to  you,  "  You  pay  your  life 
for  the  world.  It  is  a  high  price,  but  doubtless 
you  can  give  a  reason  for  paying  it.  How  shall 
you  be  profited  if  you  gain  the  world  and  lose  your 
life  ?  " 

Will  it  not  be  well  to  stop,  and  examine  the  value 
of  this  purchase  before  the  bargain  is  concluded  ? 
And  please  to  note,  that,  in  what  I  shall  have  to  say 
about  it,  I  shall  appeal  mostly  to  your  own  observa- 
tion and  experience.  I  shall  go  into  no  guesses 
nor  speculations.  But  let  me  first  say,  that  you 
may  be  none  the  less  a  purchaser  of  the  world  if 
you  do  not  go  to  the  length  of  our  Saviour's  sup- 
position, and  gain  the  whole  world.  You  need  not 
be  rich  nor  powerful  nor  luxurious  to  be  worldly. 


28  DOES  IT  PAY? 

1  and  to  exchange  your  life  for  the  world.  You  may 
jbe  as  ignorant  and  as  rude  in  your  life  as  a  Hot- 
tentot, and  as  poor  as  Lazarus,  and  yet  have  gained 
bhe  world  and  lost  your  life.  For  this  is  not 
(merely  a  question  of  the  tilings  which  3'ou  acquire 
Iby  your  exchange :  it  is  a  question  of  the  law 
under  which  you  put  yourself,  of  the  moral  quality 
of  the  end  which  you  seek.  It  was  not  Lazarus' 
poverty  wliich  carried  him  to  Abraham's  bosom, 
nor  Dives'  riches  which  put  him  on  the  other  side 
of  the  gulf.  It  is  possible  for  you  to  be  quite  as 
worldly  in  poverty  as  in  wealth,  in  weakness  and 
obscurity  as  in  power.  It  is  enough  that  you 
choose  to  follow  the  world's  rule ;  that  you  find 
your  pleasure,  whatever  it  be,  in  going  the  world's 
way ;  that  you  live,  in  short,  for  just  such  ends, 
and  in  just  such  relations  to  your  fellowmen,  as 
you  would  if  there  were  no  such  thing  as  God  and 
heaven,  love  and  unselfish  ministr}^. 

But  suppose  we  go  to  the  entire  length  of  the 
Lord's  words.  Suppose  you  gain  the  ivJiole  world, 
every  tiling  the  world  has  to  give  you.  I  submit 
to  you  first,  that  you  have  gotten  something  perisli- 
ahle.  Suppose  you  should  buy  a  beautiful  flask 
of  some  precious  cordial,  with  the  understandmg 
that  there  was  a  secret  leak  in  the  flask  which  you 
could  not  find  nor  stop,  and  through  which  the 
precious  liquid  was  slowly  trickling  away.  Would 
you  not  be  deemed  a  fool  ?  Yet  you  buy  the  world 
with  this  certainty.  Grant  that  its  pleasures  are 
ravishing,  its  sights  and  harmonies  bewitching : 
you  know  as  well  as  I  do  that  they  cannot  last.    The 


DOES  IT  PAY?  29 

world  is  at  the  feet  of  your  beauty,  young  woman. 
Are  you  willing  to  look  to-day  into  a  mirror  which 
shall  show  you  the  face  of  thirty  years  hence  ?  The 
world  praises  you,  young  man.  Do  you  not  know 
that  the  world  will  soon  tire  of  you,  and  kick  you 
aside  for  a  new  object?  Do  you  not  know  —  you 
may  easily  know,  for  the  thing  is  all  through  his- 
tory —  that  the  very  men  who  sing  "  Hosanna !  " 
to-day,  will  cry  "  Crucify  him !  "  to-morrow?  Drip, 
drip!  The  golden  cordial  is  going.  The  clock 
strikes  one!  A  drop  gone.  Two!  Another  drop. 
Three !  Another.  And  so  on  round  the  dial,  only 
to  begin  again.  The  world  is  passing  away.  Men 
and  women  are  growing  old  before  your  very  faces. 
Your  purchase  has  this  quality,  at  least, — it  tvill 
not  last. 

But  I  submit  to  you  further,  your  interest  in  it 
will  not  last.  I  know  it  does  not  seem  so  now. 
You  are  so  full  of  burning  zeal  to  grasp  the  world 
that  it  seems  as  though  your  desire  would  never 
cool.  But  "  the  world  passeth  away,  and  the  desire^ 
of  it. "  The  fascination  of  the  world  is  largely  in 
your  zest  for  it.  The  richest  banquet  has  no  charm 
for  you  if  you  are  sick  or  surfeited.  But  you  see 
for  yourselves  that  the  zest  for  the  world  passes 
away  with  the  world.  There  were  certain  things 
which  you  longed  to  have  and  to  do  when  you  were 
boys  and  girls ;  you  are  not  very  old  now,  but  you 
do  not  care  for  those  thmgs  any  more :  and  that 
weakening  of  desire  is  going  on  all  the  time.  The 
time  comes  to  all  men  when  they  say,  "  I  have  no 
pleasure  in  them."      The  pleasures  of  youth   re- 


30  DOES  IT   PAY? 

quire  the  vigor  and  the  freshness  of  youth.  The 
time  comes  when  the  strong  man's  ambition  begins 
to  droop,  and  he  does  not  kindle  at  the  call  of 
fame.  The  time  comes  when  the  honored  and 
praised  man  becomes  indifferent  to  honor  and 
praise,  and  only  asks  the  world  to  let  him  go  on 
his  way  in  quiet.  You  have  purchased,  in  short, 
something  which  you  ivill  cease  to  desire. 

And  yet,  ceasing  to  desire  is  not  satisfaction. 
Your  ceasing  to  desire  will  not  be  the  feeling  of 
the  man  whose  appetite  is  sated,  but  rather  of 
him  whose  food  has  become  loathsome.  And  I  say 
of  your  purchase,  It  ivill  not  satisfy  you.  Did  you 
ever  achieve  any  worldly  success,  or  win  any  v/orld- 
ly  prize,  that  you  did  not  want  something  else  be- 
side ?  Why,  open  your  eyes,  and  look  about  you. 
All  round  you  are  men  and  women  who  have 
gained  the  world.  The  world  is  all  before  them 
where  to  choose.  They  can  gratify  their  tastes ; 
they  can  eat  and  drink  whatever  the  world's  mar- 
kets or  gardens  furnish ;  they  can  command  every 
pleasure  for  the  eye ;  they  can  travel  when  and 
whither  they  please;  and  yet  they  wander  list- 
lessly about,  not  knowing  what  to  do  with  them 
selves,  —  now  in  Europe,  now  on  the  Nile,  now  in 
Asia,  going  from  scene  to  scene,  from  gallery  to 
gallery,  from  spectacle  to  spectacle,  all  the  while 
possessed  and  driven  by  a  consuming  restlessness. 
Or  they  are  in  business.  The  man  has  gotten  his 
million :  he  wants  another  million,  and  then  anoth- 
er. He  has  gotten  his  position,  but  there  is  an- 
other man  a  step  higher  than  he.     Alexander  had 


DOES  IT  PAY?  31 

conquered  the  world :  there  was  no  more  to  con- 
quer, and  he  wept.  You  have  purchased  something 
unsatisfying. 

But  still  further.  You  have  gotten  something 
dangerous.  Men  would  laugh  to  see  you  buying  a 
pair  of  fetters  or  handcuffs  in  the  market,  but  that 
is  just  what  you  are  doing.  You  think  you  are 
buying  something  to  possess ;  did  it  ever  occur  to 
you  that  it  might  possess  you  ?  You  are  buying 
the  world  as  a  servant :  did  it  ever  occur  to  you 
that  you  might  change  places,  and  that  the  world 
might  become  master,  and  a  hard  one  at  that? 
"  The  wages  of  sin."  But  it  is  a  master,  and  not  a 
servant,  that  pays  wages.  No  doubt  of  it.  When 
you  buy  the  world,  you  buy  a  master  at  the  price 
of  your  life.  A  terrible  mistake,  to  find  that  you 
have  paid  your  best,  your  all,  for  slavery,  when  you 
thought  you  were  buying  freedom.  Do  you  think 
that  is  a  morbid  fancy  ?  Nay :  see  for  yourselves. 
Any  thing  that  is  necessary  to  a  man  is  liis  master, 
is  it  not  ?  Did  you  never  see  a  man  whose  whole 
thought  and  life  had  been  concentrated  on  money- 
making,  and  who  could  not  rest  when  he  wanted  to, 
could  not  live  without  the  excitement  of  the  money- 
market?  Did  you  never  know  a  man's  honesty 
mastered  by  the  love  for  gain?  Did  you  never 
know  a  man  who  had  fed  himself  on  the  world's 
praise,  until,  when  his  banquet  was  withdrawn,  and 
men  forsook  his  sln-ine  for  that  of  another  popular 
idol.  Ins  manhood  drooped  and  shrivelled,  and  he 
became  a  disappointed,  snarling  misanthrope  ?  Did 
you  ever  know  a  more  relentless,  masterful  demon 


32  DOES   IT  PAY? 

than  that  which  drives  the  woman  whose  chief  end 
in  life  is  social  position  ?  A  dangerous  thing  this 
purchase  !  The  selfish  man  is  a  suicide  :  his  lower 
self  kills  the  higher.  A  man  takes  on  the  measure 
of  his  aim.  He  who  aims  high  is  the  nobler,  even 
though  he  miss  his  mark.  His  arrow  will  fly  high- 
er aimed  at  the  sun,  than  when  aimed  at  something 
on  his  own  level.  You  see  and  know  for  your- 
selves that  one  who  lives  for  low,  sensual  ends  is 
lower  and  meaner  in  the  quality  of  his  manhood. 
Dangerous  !  you  know  what  masters  drink  and  the 
passion  for  gaming  become.  Dangerous  !  there  is 
a  life  going  on  in  certain  circles  in  this  city,  which 
veils  itself  under  social  proprieties  and  elegances, 
but  which  is  aptly  described  by  the  term  "  fast." 
A  continuous  whirl  of  feasting  and  spectacles  and 
carnivals,  which  is  undermining  some  of  the  bright- 
est youthful  promise,  and  blighting  some  of  the 
best  young  manhood  and  womanhood  of  this  city. 
Do  you  know  what  the  end  of  that  will  be  ?  Some 
of  you  have  seen  Couture's  great  picture,  "The. 
Decadence  of  the  Romans,"  in  the  gallery  of  the 
Luxembourg  at  Paris, — a  picture  of  a  luxurious 
hall,  where  a  frenzied  orgie  is  at  its  height,  a  car- 
nival of  drunkenness  and  wantonness.  A  drunken 
youth,  with  a  wreath  in  his  tangled  hair,  sits  upon 
a  pedestal ;  while  a  reeling  boy  proffers  a  dripping 
goblet  to  the  marble  mouth  of  a  statue.  The  old 
Roman  dignity  is  gone  from  the  brutalized  faces  of 
the  revellers,  which  contrast  sadly  with  the  noble 
features  of  the  statues  of  the  old  Roman  worthies 
ranged  round  the  hall,  and  with  the  sad  faces  of  a 


b 


DOES  IT  PAY?  33 

group  of  thoughtful-looking  men  who  are  quitting 
the  scene.  And  what  is  perhaps  as  significant  as 
any  other  feature  is,  tliat  the  faces  of  this  picture 
present  a  surprising  likeness  to  faces  which  one 
sees  every  day  in  the  streets  of  Paris,  and  that  the 
models  for  this  wreck  of  human  nature  are  fur- 
nished by  the  painter's  own  city.  It  is  a  truth  not 
told  by  Paris  only.  It  has  been  told  over  and 
over  again,  as  one  city  after  another  —  Antioch, 
Corinth,  Rome,  Sybaris  —  has  gone  over  the  preci- 
pice. It  is  the  story  of  the  inevitable  end  of  fast 
life  and  of  fast  society.  You  buy  a  dangerous  thing 
when  you  buy  the  world. 

And,  once  more,  you  come  to  the  line  at  last, 
and  pass  over.  You  and  I  do  not  know  much 
about  that  future  world :  speculation  amounts  to 
little.  The  word  of  God  is  reticent  about  details ; 
and  all  that  we  do  know,  we  know  from  that  Word. 
But  from  that  Word  we  do  know  something  of  the 
moral  conditions  of  the  future  life.  About  one 
thing  there  cannot  be  any  doubt ;  and  that  is,  that 
the  only  thing  we  carry  over  the  line  with  us  is  our- 
selves. What  we  are  goes  nakedly  into  that  world, 
without  any  of  the  disguises  or  deceptions  with 
which  circumstances  invest  character  here.  "We 
brought  nothing  into  this  world,  and  it  is  certain 
we  can  carry  nothing  out."  Whatever  price  you 
pay  for  the  world,  you  leave  the  world  behind  you 
when  you  pass  the  gate  of  death.  If,  then,  that 
is  all  you  have  gotten,  what  do  you  carry  into 
the  next  world  ?  You  have  given  your  life  for  the 
world.     You  cannot  give  it,  and  have  it  too.     The 


34  DOES   IT  PAY? 

world  has  passed  away,  and  you  go  to  face  God  — 

with  ivhat  ?     The  only  thing  that  has  any  hold  on 

.the  future   is  the    Christ-like  self,  trained  in  the 

Uchool  of  faith  and  self-denial  and  ministry ;  and 

if  you  have  not  that,  if  you  have  parted  with  that 

I  for  the    world,  what  have   you?     What   shall  it 

profit  you  if  you  shall    have    gained   the    whole 

world,  and   lost  your  life?     I  give   you  Christ's 

teaching,  not  mine.     He  knew  both  worlds.     He 

I  has  told  you  the  solemn  truth  betimes,  that  yow 

I  might  not  find  it  out  only  when  the  mischief  was 

*  done  ;  and  if,  when  3^ou  get  into  that  new  life,  this 

truth  shall  come  to  you  as  a  new  discovery,  rest 

assured  it  will  bring  pain  and  anguish  with  it. 

Christ  asks  you  this  morning,  "  Does  it  pay  ?  " 
He  appeals  to  fact,  to  your  observation,  to  your 
common  sense.  Does  it  pay?  Is  it  a  good  bar- 
gain ?  "  What  shall  a  man  be  profited  if  he  shall 
gain  the  whole  world,  and  forfeit  his  life  ?  or 
what  shall  a  man  give  in  exchange  for  his  life?" 
Or  let  another  evangelist  give  you  the  same  truth 
in  his  way  :  "  For  what  is  a  man  profited  if  he  gain 
the  whole  world,  and  lose  or  forfeit  his  own  self?  " 
Is  it  a  good  bargain  ?  —  a  world  that  passes  away,, 
a  desire  that  passes  away  ;  an  unsatisf3dng  world  ; 
a  world  that  carries  in  itself  the  seeds  of  dan- 
ger and  disaster;  a  world  that  proves. a  hard  and 
cruel  master,  and  gives  slavery  instead  of  free- 
dom. All  this  for  a  life  inspired  and  guided  by 
Christ,  a  life  in  communion  with  heaven,  a  life 
rich  in  helpfulness  and  love ;  a  faith  which  con- 
quers the  world,  and  makes   you  superior  to  its 


DOES   IT  PAY?  35 

chances  and  changes  and  sorrows ;  a  hope  of  eter- 
nal rest  and  eternal  life,  —  is  it  a  good  bargain  ? 

j\Iy  young  friends,  I  would  save  you  from  this  ( 
fearful  mistake.  Christ  would  save  you;  and 
therefore  his  call  is  strong  and  urgent  to  you  to 
day :  "  Seek  ye  first  the  kingdom  of  God  and  his 
righteousness."  You  tell  me  there  is  much  good 
in  the  world,  much  that  may  rightly  be  enjoyed; 
that  God  made  the  world  to  be  used.  That  is 
all  true.  God  did  make  the  world  for  you  to  use 
and  enjoy,  but  under  his  direction ;  and  it  may  be 
well  for  you  to  remember,  that,  setting  aside  all 
considerations  of  the  future  life,  you  will  makej 
the  most  of  the  world  by  following  Christ.  You! 
will  make  the  world  your  servant,  instead  of  your 
master.  You  will  enjoy  its  lawful  pleasures  with- 
out a  sting,  instead  of  being  ridden  and  driven  by 
it  as  by  a  demon.  The  alternative  of  this  fear- 
ful purchase  we  have  been  considering  is  before 
you.  Christ  stands  beside  you  in  the  market- 
place, and  asks  what  it  will  profit  you  to  gain  the 
world  and  lose  yourself,  and  then  says  to  3'ou, 
"  Follow  me  !  Yes,  along  the  way  of  the  cross ! 
yes,  leaving  self  behind !  but  my  yoke  is  easy, 
and  my  burden  is  light :  you  shall  find  rest  unto 
your  souls ;  you  shall  not  walk  in  darkness ;  you 
shall  not  want  for  the  best  of  society.  Lo !  I  am 
with  you  alway,  even  unto  the  end  of  the  world." 
Self  may  die,  but  the  world  will  be  the  richer  for 
the  fruit  of  a  ministering  life ;  and  beyond  is  rest, 
reward,  heaven. 


III. 

THE   SINGLE   NEED. 


III. 

THE  SINGLE  NEED. 

"  But  the  Lord  answered  and  said  unto  her,  Martha,  Martha, 
thou  art  anxious  and  troubled  about  many  things  :  but  one  thing 
is  needful  :  for  Mary  hath  chosen  the  good  part,  which  shall  not 
be  taken  away  from  her."  —  Luke  x.  41,  42. 

MARTHA  was  determined  to  provide  a  fine 
entertainment  on  this  occasion.  She  was 
doubtless  a  notable  housewife,  and,  not  unnatu- 
rally, a  little  proud  of  it ;  and  she  had  with  her, 
to-day,  her  dearest  and  most  honored  guest,  and 
was  bent  on  setting  before  him  her  best,  and  in  her 
best  style.  So  there  was  much  anxious  discussion, 
we  may  suppose,  about  what  dishes  should  be  pre- 
pared, and  not  a  little  worry  about  their  being 
properly  cooked  and  served,  and  that  the  honored 
guest  should  have  what  might  please  him  most. 
It  was  a  loving  impulse  on  her  part,  and  our  Lord 
did  not  fail  to  appreciate  it.  All  natures  do  not 
express  their  affection  in  the  same  way.  What  a 
blessed  fact  it  is  that  our  Master  and  Judge  sees 
the  love  behind  the  differences,  and  tolerates  the 
differences  for  the  love's  sake  ! 

Mary,  though  her  quiet  sitting  at  Jesus'  feet  was 
in   strange    contrast,    apparently,   with    Martha's 

39 


40  THE   SINGLE   NEED. 

bustling  activity  and  worry,  showed,  on  other 
occasions,  that  she  was  not  indisposed  to  active 
ministry.  It  was  jMary  who  brought  the  flask  of 
spikenard,  and  anointed  the  Lord's  feet  at  that 
same  taljle  ;  and  the  words  in  this  story  seem  to 
indicate  that  she  had  been  assisting  Martha  in  her 
preparations  before  Jesus  came :  but  her  finer 
spiritual  instinct  discerned  that  there  was  a  better 
way  of  entertaining  liioi  than  by  feasting  him. 
Custom  in  all  ages,  I  know,  has  prescribed  a  feast 
as  an  appropriate  wa}'^  of  honoring  a  guest ;  and  in 
one  sense  it  is  so.  You  give  a  man  a  mark  of 
your  confidence  and  respect  by  inviting  him  to 
your  table  ;  but  you  do  not,  after  all,  if  you  will 
think  of  it,  show  him  the  highest  mark  of  respect 
by  inviting  him  to  a  splendid  and  formal  banquet, 
assuming  that  he  is  best  entertained  by  the  grati- 
fication of  his  appetite.  You  pay  him  a  higher 
token  of  your  regard  when  you  invite  him  to  par- 
take of  your  informal  family  meal ;  taking  him 
into  your  private  life,  and  assuming  that  he  cares 
more  for  your  society  than  for  your  fare.  Mary,  I 
repeat,  discerned  this  fact,  with  a  loving  woman's 
quick  perception  ;  and  so  she  was  less  anxious  than 
Martha  about  the  details  of  the  feast.  She  had 
done  all  that  she  thought  necessary  for  comfort 
and  decency;  and  she  valued  her  guest  enough  to 
desire  to  get  something  more  out  of  his  visit  than 
the  mere  pleasure  of  seeing  him  eat,  or  the  gratifi- 
cation of  having  Mm  praise  her  viands.  Call  it  a 
kind  of  selfishness,  if  you  will ;  indeed,  Martha  had 
no  hesitation  in  calling  it  so  :  it  was  nevertheless 


THE   SINGLE  NEED.  41 

true,  that  Mary  was  bent  on  enjoying  as  well  as 
entertaining  her  guest.  Surely  we  are  all  selfish 
to  that  extent.  She  knew  the  blessing  of  Jesus' 
presence  in  the  house.  Are  there  not  some  Marys 
to-day,  who,  if  he  should  come  into  their  houses, 
would  well-nigh  forget  altogether  to  lay  the  table, 
in  their  eagerness  to  hear  the  words  of  him  who 
spake  as  never  man  spake  ?  Let  us  hope  so,  at 
least ;  because  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  Mary's 
attitude  was  the  more  pleasing  of  the  two  to  the 
Lord,  that  her  spiritual  instinct  was  keener,  and 
her  spiritual  fibre  finer,  than  Martha's.  The  Lord's 
gentle  and  affectionate  rebuke  of  Martha,  —  so 
gentle,  so  playful  I  had  almost  said,  as  to  rob  it  of 
its  sting,  —  and  his  commendation  of  Mary,  set 
that  beyond  question,  and  give  us  our  lesson  to- 
day, —  "  Martha,  thou  art  anxious  and  troubled 
about  many  things  :  but  one  thing  is  needful :  for 
Mary  hath  chosen  the  good  part,  which  shall  not  be 
taken  away  from  her." 

In  the  first  place,  observe  that  Christ's  words 
imply  no  disapproval  of  active  service  as  against  a 
contemplative  or  meditative  life.  It  has  been  a  fa- 
vorite fancy  to  make  these  two  characters  typical, 
—  the  one  of  the  active,  and  the  other  of  the  con- 
templative, Ufe  ;  but  the  fancy  is  not  borne  out  by 
fact,  nor  is  it  the  contrast  between  these  two  that 
is  present  to  the  Saviour's  mind.  It  is  not  Martha's 
activity  that  he  is  rebuking,  but  her  anxiety  and 
distraction.  He  who  went  about  doing  good,  and 
who  said,  "  My  meat  is  to  do  the  will  of  Him  that 
sent  me,"  was  not  the  one  to  rebuke  active  minis- 


42  THE   SINGLE   NEED. 

try.  The  point  of  his  rebuke  lies  in  enforcing 
the  pursuit  of  one  thing  as  against  many  things. 
Martha  is  distracted  and  bustling  about  many 
things  :  Mary  has  chosen  one  thing,  —  a  good  part 
which  shall  not  be  taken  away  from  her,  —  and  that 
thing  alone  is  needful.  It  may  have  been  that  the 
peculiar  form  of  the  expression  grew  out  of  the 
feast  itself.  Martha  has  provided,  with  much 
worry  and  care,  many  things  to  eat.  To  sustain 
life,  only  one  thing  is  absolutely  needful ;  or,  as 
some  read  it,  "  There  is  need  of  few  things,  or  of 
one."  Be  this  as  it  may,  the  lesson  is  plain  :  the 
life  of  the  soul  depends  on  one  thing ;  the  whole 
energy  of  the  soul  should  be  concentrated  upon 
that. 

That  accords  with  the  Saviour's  teaching  else- 
where :  "  Leave  all,  and  follow  me  !  seek  first  one 
thing,  —  the  kingdom  of  God  !  "  The  man  in 
the  parable,  when  he  had  lighted  on  the  hidden 
treasure,  concentrated  all  his  desire  and  all  his 
fortune  on  that  one  field ;  and,  selling  all  that  he 
had,  he  bought  it.  The  pearl-merchant,  who  was 
seeking  many  goodly  pearls,  at  last  sold  every 
thing  for  one  wonderful  gem.  All  the  law  is. 
summed  up  in  one  word.  Now,  if  we  will  only 
think  of  it,  we  shall  see  that  just  that  simplicity 
is  what  we  are  seeking  everywhere.  -  Wherever 
we  have  a  variety  of  facts  or  details  to  deal  with, 
we  are  not  satisfied  until  we  find  some  law  or 
some  principle,  some  one  thing  which  includes 
them  all.  We  see  the  stone  fall  to  the  ground 
when  it  leaves  our   hand,  and  the  planets  held 


THE   SINGLE  NEED.  43 

in  their  orbits.  We  are  delighted  when  we  can 
group  these  two  facts,  apparently  so  unrelated, 
under  the  one  law  of  gravitation.  When  work 
involves  a  multitude  of  details  requiring  a  mul- 
titude of  separate  forces,  we  aim  to  find  one 
single  force  which  will  take  up  all  the  others 
into  itself,  and  do  their  work.  Suppose  a  man 
who  had  never  seen  a  great  machine-shop,  and 
who  knew  nothing  of  the  power  of  steam  or  water, 
were  set  down  in  a  great  hall  full  of  lathes  and 
looms  and  circular  saws,  and  required  to  set  the 
machinery  in  motion  :  how  many  men  he  would 
call  in  !  how  many  separate  contrivances  he  would 
apply  to  each  machine  !  how  he  would  bustle  about 
from  wheel  to  wheel,  from  lathe  to  lathe,  now 
heaving  away  at  a  great  trip-hammer,  now  cutting 
his  fingers  on  a  circular  saw,  now  turning  round 
the  driving-wheel  of  a  lathe !  And  at  this  point 
the  experienced  engineer  comes  in,  and  laughs  as 
he  sees  the  poor  man's  perplexity,  and  says  to  him, 
"My  friend,  all  this  trouble  is  unnecessary  :  only 
one  thing  is  needful ; "  and  he  slips  a  belt  over  a 
drum,  and  pulls  a  lever,  and  behold  !  the  whole  hall 
is  in  a  whirl,  —  lathes,  saws,  trip-hammers,  all  in 
motion,  without  a  hand  on  any  of  them.  Or,  here 
is  a  schoolboy  with  his  arithmetic  before  him,  and 
a  whole  page  of  "  examples  "  to  work  out :  and  he 
takes  each  example  by  itself,  and  tries  to  think  his 
way  through  it ;  trying  all  sorts  of  experiments, 
applying  one  method  to  one,  and  another  to  another, 
and  getting  more  confused  every  minute.  Present- 
ly the  teaclier  looks  over  his  shoulder  at  his  slate 


44  THE  SINGLE  NEED. 

covered  with  a  chaotic  mass  of  figures,  and  glances 
at  the  boy's  hot  and  troubled  face,  and  says  to 
him,  "  You  are  taking  a  good  deal  of  unnecessary 
trouble.  This  is  not  as  hard  as  it  looks  :  only  one 
thing  is  needful ;  all  these  examples  are  illustra- 
tions of  one  law."  And  he  sits  down,  and  explains 
a  simple  principle  to  the  lad ;  and  then  the  work 
becomes  a  delight.  The  boy  has  a  clew  in  his  hand 
which  leads  him  straight  through  the  whole  laby- 
rinth of  figures.  He  turns  from  the  multitude  of 
details  to  the  principle,  and  finds  that  the  details 
arrange  themselves,  and  the  answer  comes  right 
every  time. 

So  that  there  is  nothing  arbitrary  or  unnatural, 
or  even  unfamiliar,  in  the  gospel's  summing  itself 
in  one  thing,  and  concentrating  men's  attention  on 
that.  It  is  evident,  as  we  have  already  seen,  that 
the  gospel  illustrates  this  great  truth  of  centrali- 
zation. It  is  intensely  centralized.  Whether  we 
regard  it  as  a  system,  as  a  life  in  man,  as  a  code  of 
laws,  as  a  theory  of  morals, — from  all  these  points 
of  view,  the  lines  run  straight  to  Christ.  As  a 
system,  it  centres  in  his  person  ;  as  a  life,  in  man : 
its  moving  forces  are  love  and  faith  toward  Christ ', 
its  idtimate  aim,  conformity  to  the  mind  and  will 
of  Christ :  as  a  code  of  laws,  Christ  is  the  fulfil- 
ment of  the  law,  its  perfect  illustration ;  as  a 
theory  of  morals,  it  is  summed  up  in  obedience  to 
Christ.  It  keeps  this  one  figure  constantly  before 
us.  It  groups  all  details  round  him.  God's  great 
gift  to  the  world  is  Jesus  Christ ;  and  with  him,  he 
gives  us  all  things.    Not  that  he  adds  all  things  to 


THE   SINGLE   NEED,  45 

the  gift  of  Christ  as  another  and  distinct  expres- 
sion of  his  love,  but  rather  that  Christ  carries  all 
other  things  with  him  in  the  nature  of  the  case. 
The  greater  gift  takes  up  all  the  minor  gifts  into 
itself — includes  them.  When  a  man  buys  an 
estate  of  so  many  acres,  he  does  not  ask  for  sepa- 
rate titles  for  the  woodland  and  the  pasture  and 
the  streams  and  the  mines.  He  wants  one  title  to 
the  estate.  He  pays  so  much ;  and  then,  if  there 
is  gold  or  coal  or  an  oil-well  on  the  estate,  that  is 
his.  The  purchase  of  the  estate  gives  him  com- 
mand of  all  its  possibilities,  whether  apparent  or 
latent.  And  so,  when  God  would  lead  a  man  to 
spiritual  power  and  riches  by  the  most  direct  road, 
he  leads  him  to  Christ.  He  says :  "  Receive  him 
implicitly.  Only  that  one  thing  is  needful ;  the 
rest  follows,  the  rest  is  contained  in  him,  all  things 
are  in  him,  —  all  power,  all  grace,  all  wisdom,  all 
spiritual  possibilities  of  every  kind ;  and,  therefore, 
when  you  receive  him,  you  receive  all  these  things 
with  him."  That  is  Paul's  simple  logic.  "All 
things  are  yours  because  ye  are  Christ's,  all  things 
are  Christ's  because  he  is  God's ;  and  therefore,  in 
Christ,  God  becomes  yours,  and  God  is  all  in  all." 
If  this  be  so,  shall  we  be  surprised  to  hear  Christ 
insisting  upon  the  one  thing  ?  to  hear  him  say,  — 
"  Seek  ye  first  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  his  right- 
eousness ;  and  all  these  things  shall  be  added  unto 
you  "  ? 

Now,  this  seems  simple ;  but  practically  it  is  not 
so  easily  realized  as  we  might  expect.  It  is  the 
higher   spiritual  outlook  which  reveals  this  sim- 


46  THE   SINGLE   NEED. 

plicity  and  centralization  of  the  gospel.  When 
you  are  set  down  for  the  first  time  in  a  great  and 
strange  city,  the  streets  are  a  labyrinth  to  you ; 
and  when  you  strike  out  into  the  city,  and  begin 
to  explore  it,  you  get  no  sense  of  system  in  the 
arrangement  of  the  streets :  you  lose  yourself  in 
all  sorts  of  by-ways  and  blind  alleys,  and  your 
walk  is  a  constant  succession  of  experiments.  But 
when  you  climb  to  the  top  of  some  cathedral-tower, 
and  look  down,  the  confusion  resolves  itself.  You 
see  the  central  square  or  the  market-place,  and 
how  all  the  streets  have  a  certain  relation  to  that. 
So  it  is  the  higher  outlook,  I  repeat,  which  reveals 
how  the  gospel  is  centred.  LoAver  down,  it  pre- 
sents great  possibilities  of  confusion ;  because  the 
gospel,  in  one  aspect,  is  a  thing  of  infinite  details. 
It  is  a  system  framed  for  life,  and  for  life  on  every 
imaginable  side,  and  for  application  to  every  possi- 
bility of  life.  It  embraces  an  immense  range  of 
duties  and  attainments.  Life  along  its  whole  line 
touches  the  moral  and  spiritual  kingdom.  And. 
when  a  man  confronts  the  gospel  on  this  side,  — 
and  that  is  the  side  on  which,  perhaps,  the  majority 
of  men  approach  it,  —  he  is  appalled.  Like  Mar- 
tha, he  becomes  cumbered  and  anxious  with  the 
thought  of  much  serving.  He  does  not  see  that 
the  gospel  is  any  thing  else  than  ser\dce,  and  ser- 
vice touching  an  infinite  variety  of  details,  and 
service  tested  by  a  perfect  moral  standard.  He  is 
occupied  with  the  thought  of  how  he  can  deal 
with  this  mass  of  details ;  and  it  does  not  at  once 
occur  to  him  that  he  may  get  at  the  details  of 


THE    SINGLE   NEED.  47 

service  by  a  shorter  process,  that  he  may  be  phaced 
at  a  point  from  which  the  details  will  all  arrange 
themselves,  that  he  may  come  under  the  power  of 
an  impulse  which  will  make  duty  meat  instead  of 
drudgery,  and  carry  all  duties  and  all  services 
easily  along  with  it.  The  sooner  that  man  gets 
through  Christianity  as  a  system,  to  Christ  as  a 
friend  and  helper,  the  better  for  him.  Suppose  a 
boy  taken  from  his  home  at  an  early  age,  and  sent 
to  school  in  a  foreign  land.  He  has  staid  there 
year  after  year,  until  his  impressions  of  the  faces 
and  voices  and  incidents  of  his  home  have  well- 
nigh  faded  out.  Occasionally  some  one  visits  him 
who  has  lately  seen  his  home,  and  brings  him  mes- 
sages from  parents  and  friends.  The  boy  is  natu- 
rally eager  to  know  all  about  that  home.  "  Tell 
me  how  father  and  mother  look.  Tell  me  how 
large  my  brother  has  grown.  Tell  me  how  the 
house  is  furnished,  and  whether  the  trees  are  still 
in  such  a  place."  And  the  visitor  says,  "Your 
home  is  a  charming  place.  Your  parents  are  loved 
and  honored  everywhere,  and  their  household  is 
ordered  with  the  utmost  system  and  precision :  no 
drones  are  allowed  there.  Each  son  and  daughter 
has  specified  duties.  Every  thing  must  be  done 
on  time,  and  well  and  thoroughly  done."  And  as 
such  reports  reach  him  again  and  again,  the  boy 
becomes  troubled  and  anxious  at  the  prospect  of 
going  home.  He  is  afraid  he  cannot  fit  himself 
to  that  exact  and  beautiful  system,  that  he  cannot 
meet  all  those  requirements,  that  he  will  bring 
reproof  and  displeasure  upon  himself  by  inadver- 


48  THE   SINGLE  NEED. 

tency ;  and  so  all  the  pleasure  gradually  fades  out 
of  the  prospect  of  going  home,  until  he  comes 
actually  to  dread  it,  and  would  rather  stay  in 
the  far-off  land.  Home  has  taken  on,  in  his  mind, 
the  character  of  a  well-conducted  workhouse. 
But  oh,  how  little  he  suspects  the  joy  and  expec- 
tation and  longing  which  pervade  that  home  in 
the  near  prospect  of  his  coming  !  He  cannot  see 
the  preparations  which  busy  the  mother's  hands 
from  morning  till  night  for  his  welcome  and  com- 
fort. He  does  not  suspect  the  father's  nervous, 
growing  restlessness  as  the  day  draws  near  for 
the  arrival  of  the  ship.  And  at  last  it  comes. 
The  carriage  drives  up  to  the  door :  the  boy  leaps 
out,  and  is  clasped  in  his  father's  arms,  and  his 
young  head  bedewed  with  such  tears  as  only  a 
mother  can  shed,  and  is  led  into  the  light  and 
cheer  and  hilarity  of  home ;  and,  in  a  moment, 
all  that  dread  and  anxious  care  which  have  been 
oppressing  his  heart  for  months  are  gone.  The 
atmosphere  of  love  in  which  he  finds  himself,  a 
single  glance  at  the  faces  of  his  parents,  dispel 
those  false  pictures  of  his  fancy  like  a  dream.  It 
does  not  take  him  long  to  see  that  the  household 
is  well-ordered,  that  every  thing  moves  like  clock- 
work, that  his  brothers  and  sisters  are  trained  to 
implicit  obedience.  But  those  things  do  not  trou- 
ble him  any  more.  He  sees  them  all  through  the 
medium  of  his  parents'  love ;  and  he  knows  by  in- 
stinct, that  under  the  shadow  of  that  home,  under 
the  guidance  of  those  parents,  he  will  find  a  place 
in  the  home-system,  and  a  round  of  duties  which 


THE   SINGLE   NEED.  49 

will  be  a  joy.  One  look  assures  him  of  all  pos- 
sible wisdom  for  liis  direction,  all  possible  conces- 
sion to  liis  weakness,  all  possible  tolerance  for  his 
mistakes.  He  is  in  his  own  home,  girt  round 
by  love,  —  a  happy  son.  Duty  and  fidelity  will 
spring  as  naturally,  and  will  regulate  themselves 
as  sweetly,  as  the  growth  of  a  flower. 

The  first  thing  with  us  all,  the  one  thing,  is  to  get 
home  to  Christ,  —  not  merely  to  read  about  him  or 
to  speculate  about  his  character,  but  to  get  face  to 
face  with  him.  A  great  many  things  will  take  care 
of  themselves  then  which  distract  and  make  us 
anxious  now,  and  lay  us  open  to  the  rebuke  which 
Martha  received.  There  is  a  law  of  duty,  with 
many  provisions  and  touching  many  things;  but 
w^hen  shall  we  learn  to  go  first  behind  the  law  to 
Christ  himself,  and  sit  like  Mary  at  his  feet,  and 
learn  the  lesson  of  duty  as  he  shall  expound  it  to 
us  ?  When  shall  we  team  that  duty,  in  its  multi- 
tude of  forms,  becomes  a  new  and  a  simpler  and  a 
sweeter  thing  the  moment  it  is  seen  in  the  light 
of  love  for  Christ  ?  Oh,  how  this  theory  of  many 
things  to  be  done  dominates  and  rides  us  I  how  rest- 
less and  fretted  we  get  under  it !  so  much  to  do  ! 
so  much  to  do !  so  fearful  that  we  shall  not  over- 
take our  work  !  so  afraid  of  our  Father's  displeasure 
if  our  work  falls  into  arrear  !  each  day  a  wearying 
strain  to  accomplish  so  much !  as  if  Christ  were 
no  more  than  a  taskmaster,  and  our  Father's  house 
only  a  workhouse  !  We  are  sincere  about  it  too  : 
we  want  to  do  God's  will,  we  want  to  please  Christ ; 
but  we  get  so  little  comfort  out  of  it !     Christian 


50  THE   SINGLE   NEED. 

life  is  a  life  of  duty  and  of  service  ;  but  I  have  yet 
to  learn  where,  in  the  New  Testament,  Christ  puts 
service  as  a  perpetual  burden.  I  do  hear  him  say- 
ing, "  My  yoke  is  easy,  and  my  burden  is  light." 
Somehow  I  have  gotten  the  impression,  in  my  study 
of  the  Gospels  and  of  the  life  of  Christ,  that  service 
may  be  a  joy.  Even  in  lower  regions,  I  think  we 
have  all  known  cases  of  men's  enjoying  their  daily 
task,  going  with  delight  to  their  studio  or  their 
library  or  their  factory ;  and  if  one  can  be  happy 
in  these  daily  tasks,  why  must  the  service  of  Christ 
be  drudgery  ?  It  is  not  so,  and  the  secret  and  the 
correction  of  the  mistake  alike  lie  in  these  words 
of  the  Master.  We  contemplate  too  many  things : 
we  range  all  along  the  vast  circumference  of  duty, 
instead  of  striking  direct  for  the  centre  ;  we  live 
by  law,  which  takes  up  duty  in  detail,  instead  of  by 
love,  which  masses  and  carries  all  details.  But  one 
thing  is  needful,  —  to  receive  Christ  into  our  life 
with  all  our  hearts,  with  complete  self-abandon- 
ment. This  will  change  us  from  slaves  into  sons. 
"  To  as  many  as  received  Him,  to  them  gave  He 
power  to  become  sons  of  God."  This  will  not  re- 
lieve us  of  service,  but  it  will  make  our  service  the 
service  of  sons ;  and  you  know,  without  any  words 
of  mine,  the  difference  between  the  service  of  a  son 
and  of  a  servant. 

Our  religious  education,  and  the  circumstances 
amid  which  we  live,  make  it  important  that  we 
should  give  heed  to  this  truth.  The  word  which 
Christ  uses  in  his  rebuke  to  Martha  is  the  same 
which  he  employs  in  the  exhortation  :  "  Be  not  anx- 


THE   SINGLE   NEED.  61 

ions  for  your  life."     It  is  the  word  which  means 
dividing^  distracting  care,  —  care  which  divides  the 
heart  from  God ;  care  which  pulls  us  many  differ- 
ent ways ;  care  which  sets  its  stamp  on  our  lives, 
and  makes  them  fussy  and  turbulent.     And  the 
great  danger  in  the  religious  life  of  people  in  a  great 
city  like  this,  is  distraction.     Duty  pulls  so  many 
different  ways :  there  are  so  many  calls  to  help  and 
to  achieve,  so  many  shining  opportunities  of  doing 
good,  that  it  is  very  easy  to  foster  the  Martha  type 
of  life  here.      And  then,  too,  there  is,  to  many 
spirits,  a  fascination  about  doing.    They  love  to  be 
active,  and  activity  appeals  to  the  world  as  a  good 
thing  in  itself.     The  tendency  is  to  look  upon  a 
man  who  is  constantly  busy  about  a  great  number 
of  things  as  a  useful  and  important  man.     And  the 
busy  man  knows  that,  and  his  self-importance  is 
flattered  by  it;  and  close  by  this  lies  the  great 
danger  of  making  activity  cover  the  whole  ground 
of  religion,  and  of  sinking  the  equally  important 
requirements  of  prayer  and  meditation  and  self- 
examination.     And  a  man  who  lives  by  this  theory 
will,  spiritually,  deteriorate  very  fast.     That  say- 
ing, "  To  labor  is  to  pray,"  is  a  very  pretty  little 
phi-ase,  and  carries  a  grain  of  truth ;  but  its  popular 
interpretation  is,  that  work  is  a  substitute  for  prayer, 
which  is  sheer  nonsense.     Our  Lord  was  the  busiest 
of  men  while  on  earth ;  but  he  retired  often  to  the 
mountains,  and  to  other  secret  places,  to  commune 
with  the  Father.     Again  let  it  be  repeated, — it  can- 
not be  repeated  too  often,  —  the  one  thing  needful 
in  the  Christian  life,  as  in  the  solar  system,  is,  that 


52  THE   SINGLE   NEED. 

it  he  properly  centred;  and  as,  in  the  solar  system, 
two  forces  are  necessary,  —  the  one  to  hold  the  heav- 
enly bodies  to  the  centre,  the  other  to  send  them 
wheeling  in  space  to  do  their  office  of  enlighten- 
ing the  world  and  regulating  times  and  seasons, — 
so,  in  Christian  life,  prayer  is  the  centripetal  force, 
holding  and  drawing  the  man  to  Jesus  Christ,  his 
true  centre :  while  the  impulse  to  work  is  the  cen- 
trifugal force,  sending  him  out  along  the  orbit  of 
holy  ministry.  These  forces  must  be  kept  balanced. 
If  a  man  does  nothing  but  pray  and  meditate,  his  life 
becomes  morbid  and  unprofitable.  If  he  does  noth- 
ing but  work,  he  loses  his  hold  on  Christ,  and  swings 
farther  and  farther  from  the  centre  which  regulates 
and  warms  and  enlightens  him.  He  gets  out  of  his 
true  orbit,  and  becomes  distracted  amid  a  multitude 
of  duties  lying  in  other  orbits,  and  is  deceived  in 
thinking  that  he  is  one  of  God's  lights  in  the  world, 
when  he  more  resembles  an  errant  marsh-fire. 
Any  thing  which  breaks  the  conscious  connection 
of  faith  and  love  with  Christ  is  one  of  those  dis- 
tractions against  which  Christ  so  kindly  warned 
Martha,  no  matter  whether  it  be  good  work  in 
itself,  or  even  work  done  in  the  name  of  Christ., 
Much  of  the  work  done  in  Christ's  name,  if  we  are 
to  believe  Christ  himself,  will  not  stand  the  test  of 
the  last  day.  "Many  will  say  to  me  in  that  day, 
Have  we  not  prophesied  in  thy  name,  and  in  thy 
name  have  cast  out  devils,  and  in  thy  name  done 
many  wonderful  works  ?  And  then  will  I  profess 
unto  them,  I  never  knew  you." 

The  intense  centring  of  the  life  on  Christ  does 


THE   SINGLE   NEED.  53 

not  divorce  it  from  service,  as  we  have  seen.  It 
generates  service,  but  it  regulates  service ;  nor 
does  it  deprive  the  life  of  variety.  No  life  is  less 
monotonous  than  one  which  is  in  conscious,  close 
communion  with  Christ.  Paul  said,  "I  deter- 
mined to  know  nothing  among  you  save  Christ." 
Yet  what  a  variety  and  range  of  activity  that  life 
presents  ;  and  withal,  what  a  simplicity  and  exqui- 
site regulation  of  activity.  There  is  no  clashing 
or  confusion  of  duties.  He  simply  walks  day  by 
day  after  Christ,  and  the  duties  meet  him  in  due 
order.  There  is  no  anxiety  about  strength,  even 
in  that  sickly  and  much-burdened  man ;  Christ 
has  engaged  to  provide  for  that :  there  is  no  trou- 
ble about  methods ;  Christ  lays  them  down :  there 
is  no  fretting  about  visible  success ;  he  is  not 
responsible  for  success,  only  for  duty.  The  excel- 
lency of  the  power  is  of  God,  not  of  him;  and 
the  key  to  all  this  is  one  thing,  —  he  tells  us  what 
it  is  when  he  comes  to  the  end,  —  one  thing  which 
he  had  held  all  through,  while  every  thing  else 
had  been  swept  away:  "I  have  kept  the  faith!" 
and,  instead  of  being  cumbered  with  much  serv- 
ing, we  hear  him  saying  to  the  Philippians,  —  to 
whom,  perhaps  more  than  to  any  other  church,  he 
revealed  his  heart, —  "I  have  learned,  in  whatso- 
ever state  I  am,  therewith  to  be  content.  In  every 
thing  and  in  all  things  have  I  learned  the  secret 
both  to  be  filled  and  to  be  hungry,  both  to  abound 
and  to  be  in  want.  I  can  do  all  things  through 
Christ  that  strengthens  me." 

On  this,  then,  let  us  fix  our  thought,  —  one  thing 


64  THE   SINGLE   NEED. 

is  needful.  Christian  belief,  Christian  life.  Chris- 
tian experience,  are  simple ;  but  to  realize  that 
simplicity,  either  in  theory  or  in  practice,  they 
must  be  viewed  from  their  true  centre.  If  the 
gosj^el  is  approached  on  the  side  of  mere  duty,  — 
the  duties  which  we  have  to  do,  the  spiritual 
attainments  we  have  to  make, — it  is  a  mass  of 
confusion.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  we  go  straight 
to  Christ,  receive  him  into  our  hearts,  gather  up 
our  whole  life  into  simple,  loving,  believing  con- 
secration to  him,  keep  ourselves  by  faith  and 
prayer  in  continual  contact  with  him,  always 
within  the  sound  of  his  voice,  always  hearing, 
pondering,  and  practising  his  words,  —  then  the 
confusion  resolves  itself,  and  duty  and  place  and 
attainment  will  take  care  of  themselves.  We  too 
often  act  as  if  God  had  merely  recognized  us  as 
his  children,  and  given  us  the  freedom  of  his 
house,  and  then  left  us  to  ourselves  to  work  out 
our  life  as  best  we  could.  That  is  not  God's  way. 
When  he  makes  us  his  children  through  faith  in 
Christ  Jesus,  he  assumes  the  care  of  our  life  in 
all  its  details.  He  not  only  turns  us  loose  in  his 
house :  he  goes  with  us  into  every  corner,  and 
shows  us  its  treasures.  He  not  only  gives  us  the 
freedom  of  his  domain :  he  assigns  each  of  us  his 
plot  of  ground,  and  stands  by  us  while  we  try  to 
sow  the  seed  and  water  the  growths,  and  teaches 
us  how  to  be  workers  for  and  with  him ;  and  as 
for  our  care,  all  that  tends  to  distract  and  cumber 
and  confuse  us  he  bids  us  cast  it  all  on  him. 
Christian  life,  I  say,  is  simple.     It  is  summed  up  in 


THE   SINGLE   NEED.  55 

one  thing,  —  "  Follow  me  !  "  It  may  seem  to  us 
tliat  that  is  a  little  support  on  which  to  cast  such 
a  burden  and  problem  as  life  is  to  most  of  us,  but 
we  shall  do  well  to  try  it.  Day  before  yesterday 
I  had  occasion  to  go  to  the  lower  part  of  the  city 
by  the  elevated  railroad ;  and,  as  I  got  out  at 
Hanover  Square,  I  looked  down  ujDon  the  street 
far  below,  and  a  thought  something  like  this  went 
through  my  mind:  supposing  that,  without  any 
knowledge  of  the  existence  and  mode  of  working 
of  an  elevated  railway,  I  had  been  placed  on  this 
train  while  asleep  or  unconscious,  and  had  awak- 
ened at  this  station,  and  been  told  that  I  must  get 
down  to  that  street.  I  get  out  of  the  train,  and 
find  myself  on  a  narrow  platform.  I  look  down 
on  either  side,  and  say,  "No  way  down  there, 
except  by  being  dashed  to  pieces."  Instinctively 
I  follow  those  in  front  of  me.  Steps,  but  the 
door  is  shut:  no  getting  down  there.  I  follow 
still.  A  door,  but  it  opens  into  an  enclosure.  I 
follow  still.  Another  door,  and  there  are  steps 
which  lead  me  safely  and  easily  down  to  the 
street.  I  might  have  stood  still,  and  distracted 
myself  with  a  dozen  devices  for  getting  down.  I 
might  have  gone  bustling  about,  looking  for  a  rope 
or  a  ladder.  There  was  only  one  thing  needful, 
and  that  was,  to  follow  those  who  knew  the  way. 
So  in  our  Christian  experience,  one  thing  is  need- 
ful, —  the  part  which  Mary  chose,  to  hear  Jesus' 
words  and  to  follow  him.  A  good  many  times  in 
the  course  of  this  life  we  shall  be  puzzled  about 
how  to  get  up  or  down  or  out,  sadly  puzzled  if 


56  THE   SINGLE   NEED. 

we  think  it  our  business  to  extricate  ourselves ; 
but  those  many  things  are  not  our  business.  The 
puzzle  will  resolve  itself  in  due  time  if  we  simply 
hold  to  the  one  thing,  —  following  Christ.  When 
you  gave  yourself  to  him,  you  took  him  in  place 
of  all  human  skill  and  wisdom,  for  every  emer- 
gency. These  things  no  longer  concern  you.  He 
careth  for  you,  and  they  may  all  be  laid  on  him. 

The  pertinent,  practical,  pressing  question  re- 
mains. If  one  thing  is  needful,  if  that  one  thing 
is  a  good  part,  is  it  yours?  Face  the  question. 
Where  is  your  life  centred  to-day?  Have  you 
many  aims,  or  one  aim?  One  master,  and  only 
one,  is  needful.  No  man  can  serve  two.  Who  is 
your  master  ?  The  great  object  of  life  is  one,  —  to 
be  like  Christ :  is  that  your  object,  and  are  all 
minor  objects  taken  up  in  that  ?  or  is  your  mind 
divided  between  many  objects  ?  The  claims  of  the 
world  are  many  and  pressing,  and  seemingly  im- 
portant ;  but  in  the  face  of  the  teeming,  crowding 
throng  of  worldly  cares  and  labors  and  ambitions, 
is  Christ,  saying,  "  One  thing  is  needful !  I  am 
that  one  thing  !  "     Which  voice  will  you  hear  ? 


IV. 

FACING   GOD. 


IV. 

FACING  GOD. 

"  I  have  set  the  Lord  always  before  me  :  because  he  is  at  ray 
right  baud,  I  shall  not  be  moved."  —  Ps.  xvi.  8. 

CONVICTIONS  are  of  two  kinds.  They  are 
born  of  emergencies  and  of  experience.  The 
former  are  instinctive,  springing  into  life  full 
grown:  the  latter  grow  and  mature  slowly.  A 
ship  strikes  a  rock,  and  begins  to  sink.  The  con- 
viction of  danger  and  of  possible  destruction  takes 
shape  at  once  in  the  mind  of  every  passenger. 
This  is  the  conviction  of  emergency.  You  are  im- 
pressed with  the  amiable  qualities  of  a  man ;  you 
desire  his  friendship ;  you  are  prepared  to  admire 
and  trust  him  :  but  that  is  not  conviction.  After 
years  of  intimacy,  in  which  you  have  proved  his 
powers,  experienced  his  constancy  and  devotion, 
have  always  found  him  true  and  brave  and  pure, 
you  are  convinced  of  his  worth.  It  becomes  to 
you  a  fixed  fact,  which  you  unconsciously  as- 
sume, as  you  do  gravitation  or  the  succession  of 
night  and  day.  Belief  is  not  conviction,  except 
in  the  germ.  Conviction  is  faith  in  fruition,  and 
fruition  takes  time.     Belief  may  entertain  reserva- 

59 


60  FACING   GOD. 

tions,  or  hold  itself  subject  to  possibilities:  convic- 
tion knows  no  reservation.  Belief  grasps :  convic- 
tion possesses.  Belief  may  run  up  into  conviction. 
All  well-grounded  belief  does  ultimately.  Belief 
may  serve  a  temporary  purpose  while  conviction  is 
maturing,  just  as  the  cable  serves  while  the  bridge 
is  being  built.  All  that  is  real  and  valuable  in 
belief  ultimately  passes  into  conviction,  and  is 
taken  up  into  it.  As  a  young  Christian,  you  be- 
lieved the  Bible  to  be  the  word  of  God,  and  the 
only  infallible  rule  of  faith  and  practice.  You 
believed  it  on  authority,  on  the  testimony  of  your 
parents  and  teachers ;  and  that  belief  was  enough 
to  make  you  accept  the  Bible  as  your  rule  of 
life,  and  strive  to  keep  its  precepts.  But  that 
belief  was  probably  disturbed.  Authority  was  not 
enough  for  you.  Questions  were  raised  which  set 
you  thinking,  doubting,  and  investigating.  To-day 
you  believe  the  Bible,  but  your  belief  has  grown 
into  conviction.  Your  belief  on  simple  author- 
ity has  given  place  to  a  deeper  sentiment,  based 
on  the  experience  of  years,  in  which  the  Bible  has 
proved  its  power  to  instruct  and  comfort  and  en- 
lighten you.  I  remember  going,  in  company  with 
some  brother  ministers,  to  visit  an  aged  clergyman 
then  past  his  eightieth  year.  As  we  bade  him  fare- 
well, he  laid  his  hand  on  the  Bible,  and  said  sol- 
emnly, "  There,  brethren,  there  is  our  authority : 
there  is  cur  guide."  A  young  minister  might  have 
said  that,  and  have  believed  it;  but  the  words 
would  have  lacked  the  emphasis  imparted  by  those 
long  years,  and  that  stormy  life  wrought  out  under 


FACING  GOD.  61 

the  guidance  and  inspiration  of  the  word  of  God. 
We  all  felt  that  every  fibre  of  the  old  man's  being 
went  into  those  words. 

Our  text  to-day  is  the  utterance  of  such  con- 
viction as  this.  When  I  say  the  text,  I  mean  the 
whole  psalm ;  for  this  text  gives  the  key-note  to 
the  psalm.  It  is  not  the  exclamation  of  a  man  to 
whom  a  truth  has  come  as  a  flash :  it  is  the  delib- 
erate outcome  of  a  long  and  varied  retrospect.  It 
has  a  life  behind  it.  The  man  is  convinced  that  he 
shall  not  be  moved ;  that  he  may  safely  and  heart- 
ily rejoice ;  that  in  the  unseen  world,  as  here,  he 
will  be  safe  and  happy  :  and  this  conviction  is  the 
result  of  a  life  in  which  God  has  been  continually 
before  his  face.  He  is  not  kindled  into  confidence 
and  gratitude  by  a  single  act  of  Divine  Providence. 
The  providence  has  extended  over  his  entire  life. 
The  Lord  has  fixed  his  place  in  life,  and  has  pro- 
vided for  his  support :  "  The  Lord  is  the  portion  of 
mine  inheritance  and  of  my  cup."  What  Christ 
means  when  he  says,  "I  am  the  bread  of  life," 
David  means  by  the  words,  "The  Lord  is  the  por- 
tion of  my  cup ;  "  and  in  like  manner  he  speaks 
in  the  familiar  psalm :  "  Thou  preparest  a  table 
before  me  :  my  cup  runneth  over."  Moreover,  the 
Lord  has  not  suffered  his  enemies  to  deprive  him 
of  his  portion  :  "  Thou  maintainest  my  lot.  Thou 
preparest  my  table  in  the  presence  of  mine  ene- 
mies." And  he  has  found  it  not  only  safe  but 
pleasant  to  dwell  in  God's  place,  and  to  be  fed  by 
God.  "  The  lines  have  fallen  unto  me  in  pleasant 
places."     The   portion    of  territory  which    God's 


62  FACING  GOD,  % 

measuring-line  has  marked  off  for  him  has  been 
a  goodly  heritage.  Nor  has  he  ever  wanted  for 
good  advice.  Jehovah  has  given  him  counsel ; 
and  with  such  an  experience  behind  him,  we  are 
not  surprised  to  hear  him  say,  "  My  heart  is  glad, 
my  soul  rejoiceth.  This  poor  flesh  of  mine  must 
die ;  but  God,  who  has  cared  for  me  all  along,  will 
not  give  me  up  as  a  prey  to  the  grave :  he  will 
point  out  to  me  the  way  of  life.  He  who  has 
been  always  with  me,  will  continue  to  be  with  me  ; 
and  in  his  presence  is  fulness  of  joy.  He  is  at  my 
right  hand,  and  at  his  right  hand  are  pleasures 
forevermore." 

The  secret  of  all  this  rejoicing  and  confidence, 
I  repeat,  is  in  our  text.  David  has  set  the  Lord 
always  before  him;  and  this  is  his  reward,  as  it 
may  be  ours.  Let  us  look  now  more  closely  at 
this  thought  of  having  God  always  before  us. 

It  is  of  the  greatest  importance  what  that  is 
which  is  continually  before  us.  That  which  is 
constantly  in  a  man's  eye  must  help  very  largely 
to  shape  him.  I  have  heard  a  very  significant 
criticism  on  a  certain  picture,  to  the  effect,  that, 
though  it  was  a  good  piece  of  artistic  work,  it  was 
not  a  good  picture  to  live  with.  You  would  not 
wish  to  have  hanging  up  in  your  sitting-room,  and 
constantly  in  sight  of  your  children,  a  picture  of 
Herodias  with  the  head  of  John  the  Baptist,  or  of 
a  crazed  mother  in  the  act  of  murdering  her  babe. 
You  try  to  keep  pictures  of  wholesome  subjects  as 
well  as  of  beautiful  forms  before  your  children's 
eyes;  because  you  know  that  they  are  insensibly 


FACING  GOD.  63 

educated  by  familiarity  with  such  things.  In  an 
age  of  few  books,  men  and  women  learned  mostly 
by  the  eye.  It  was  not  wholly  nor  mostly  idola- 
try which  filled  the  old  churches  with  pictures. 
The  visitor  to  St.  Mark's,  in  Venice,  may  follow 
for  himself  the  footsteps  of  the  earlier  catechumen ; 
passing  into  the  Christian  temple  through  a  vesti- 
bule of  Old-Testament  history  wrought  in  mosaic 
pictures,  and  then  reading,  on  the  walls  and  domes 
within,  the  truths  of  crucifixion,  resurrection,  the 
baptism  of  the  Spirit  and  the  coming  of  the  Lord 
to  judgment,  —  all  arranged  in  the  order  of  Chris- 
tian thought.  The  peasant  who  passed  over  the  old 
wooden  bridge  over  the  torrent  at  Lucerne  had 
daily  before  him,  in  the  painted  compartments  of 
the  bridge,  a  reminder  of  that  other  stream  which 
all  must  cross  sooner  or  later.  Nature  sets  her 
mark  on  character.  If  her  surroundings  are  gloomy 
and  savage,  they  impart  a  sombre  tone  to  the  men 
who  live  among  them.  Men  tend  to  be  narrowed 
or  broadened  by  their  daily  task.  The  man  who 
has  columns  of  figures  forever  before  him  may 
easily  degenerate  into  a  mere  calculating  machine. 
If  the  thing  which  is  constantly  before  us  is  larger 
and  better  than  ourselves,  its  hourly  presence  re- 
bukes our  littleness  and  our  badness,  and  works  to 
assimilate  us  to  itself.  If  it  is  worse  than  our- 
selves, it  draws  downward.  There  was  philosophy 
as  well  as  enthusiasm  in  the  apostle's  exhortation 
to  run,  looking  unto  Jesus,  and  in  Paul  keeping 
his  eye  on  the  prize  of  his  high  calling,  and  reach- 
ing forth  to  that  which  is  before. 


64  FACING  GOD. 

But  it  may  be  asked,  Is  not  God  always  before 
us?  can  we  help  having  the  Lord  always  before 
us?  Assuredly  we  can.  The  Psalmist  evidently 
thinks  so.  He  does  not  regard  it  as  inevitable 
that  we  should  have  the  Lord  always  before  us. 
On  the  contrary,  he  speaks  of  those  who  hasten 
after,  or,  literally,  take  unto  themselves  another 
God.  Both  their  course  and  his  are  matters  of 
choice.  He  does  not  say,  "The  Lord  is  always 
before  me,"  but  "  I  have  set  him  always  before  me." 
His  own  will,  his  own  act,  have  had  something  to 
do  with  the  matter.  He  has  been  at  pains  to  bring 
God  into  the  foreground,  and  to  keep  him  there 
always.  And  there  is  nothing  strange  in.  this ;  be- 
cause God  manifests  himself  in  the  world,  because 
every  common  bush  is  afire  with  him,  it  does  not 
follow  that  men  recognize  the  fact.  There  is 
abundance  of  sweet  music  in  the  world,  but  there 
are  multitudes  of  people  to  whom  it  means  no  more 
than  the  rumble  of  the  carts  in  the  street.  There 
are  men  who  live  all  their  lives  amid  the  grandest 
scenery,  but  who  see  in  it  nothing  but  so  much 
stone  and  timber :  men  to  whom  a  great  picture  is 
meaningless,  and  literature  as  dumb  as  the  pyra- 
mids. So,  it  is  not  strange  if  men  should  not  see 
the  God  who  puts  himself  before  them  in  his  Word 
and  in  his  providences,  in  every  star  and  flower  and 
lightning  flash.  A  sense  must  be  educated  to  see 
God.  The  apostle  is  only  stating  what  is  a  famil- 
iar fact  to  us  in  other  departments,  when  he  says 
"  The  natural  man  discerneth  not  the  things  of  the 
Spirit  of  God.     They  are  foolishness   unto   him. 


FACING  GOD.  65 

He  cannot  know  them  because  they  are  spiritually 
discerned."  It  is  quite  as  likely,  to  say  the  least, 
that  a  man's  spiritual  sense  should  be  uncultivated 
and  dormant,  and  give  him  no  knowledge  of  that 
vast  spiritual  economy  which  touches  him  every- 
where, as  that  his  eye  or  his  ear  should  be  unim- 
pressed by  pictures  or  harmony.  A  babe  has  the 
organs  of  vision,  but  nevertheless  he  must  learn 
to  see. 

This  blindness  towards  God  is  a  fact  of  history 
and  of  common  experience.  We  say,  for  instance, 
as  we  read  the  history  of  Israel,  that  such  mani- 
festations of  divine  glory  and  power  could  not 
fail  to  impress  them :  they  were  so  mighty,  so  ter- 
rible, so  unquestionable.  And  yet  they  did  fail. 
The  dividing  of  the  Red  Sea,  and  the  lightnings 
and  thunders  of  Sinai,  were  followed  by  the  fren- 
zied dance  round  the  golden  calf.  We  say  that  the 
person  and  miracles  of  Christ  were  adapted  to  con- 
vince the  most  incredulous ;  but  they  did  not,  as  we 
see :  and  we  hear  Christ  himself  saying,  "  If  I  had 
not  come  and  spoken  unto  them,  they  had  not  had 
sin :  but  now  they  have  no  excuse  for  their  sin." 

Thus,  then,  God  will  not  be,  in  any  true  sense, 
before  our  face  unless  we  set  him  there.  It  is 
a  matter  which  involves  our  determination  and 
effort,  a  matter  of  special  training  and  practice. 
There  is  a  spiritual  inertia  to  be  overcome :  there 
is  to  be  corrected  the  perverse  tendency  of  a  na- 
ture which  sets  any  thing  before  it  rather  than  God. 
That  bar  of  steel  does  not  point  naturally  to  the 
pole.    Balance  it  on  a  pivot,  and  it  will  point  south. 


66  FACING  GOD. 

east,  or  west,  as  the  case  may  be.  It  must  be  acted 
upon  from  without.  It  must  have  magnetic  virtue 
imparted  to  it ;  and  then,  and  not  till  then,  will  it 
keep  the  north  always  before  it.  Man  is  not  nat- 
urally religious.  Naturally  he  does  not  point  God- 
ward.  No  quality  in  him  swings  him  inevitably 
round  towards  God.  He  must  be  set  that  way ;  or, 
rather,  he  must  set  himself  that  way,  under  the 
divine  power  which  comes  down  upon  his  will,  and 
magnetizes  it,  and  gives  it  its  eternal  direction. 

You  will  observe  further,  that  this  having  God 
before  the  face  requires  persistency.  It  was  not 
enough  to  bring  God  once  or  twice  into  the  line  of 
vision  :  he  was  to  be  kept  there.  The  Psalmist 
tells  us  not  only  of  an  act,  but  of  a  habit:  "I 
have  set  the  Lord  always  before  my  face."  Men 
often  claim  that  they  are  susceptible  to  religious 
impressions,  and  are  disposed  to  flatter  themselves 
on  the  fact ;  and  it  is  a  familiar  enough  fact,  —  it 
would  be  strange  if  it  were  not  so,  —  that  God 
often  brings  the  face  of  the  most  unsusceptible 
man  round  to  him  by  some  display  of  his  power, 
or  by  some  stroke  of  his  providence.  Jonah  tried 
to  run  away  from  God,  but  met  him  on  the  way  to 
Tarshish :  Balaam  turned  his  back  on  God  and  his 
face  toward  Moab  ;  but  the  angel  of  God  met  him 
in  a  narrow  place,  where  there  was  no  chance  of 
turning  back.  The  impressions  which  men  receive 
under  such  circumstances  are  vivid  and  truthful : 
the  trouble  is,  that  they  do  not  expand  into  perma- 
nent convictions.  When  God  sets  himself  before 
a  man's  face,  it  is  in  order  to  make  the  man  set 


FACING  GOD.  67 

God  continually  before  Ids  face.  Tlie  crisis  means 
an  experience.  A  compass-needle  would  be  to  a 
sailor  of  no  more  account  than  a  knitting-needle 
if  it  were  made  to  point  northward  only  by  some 
violent  shock  :  it  is  the  fact  of  its  always  pointing 
thither  that  gives  it  its  value. 

It  is  this  fact  of  persistency  which  gives  value 
to  David's  saying :  what  he  tells  us  is  the  story  of 
a  man  who  has  become  familiar  with  an  object  by 
long  looking.  It  is  not  the  kind  of  a  story  which 
Jacob  would  have  told  the  morning  after  the  vision 
at  Bethel,  but  rather  of  the  kind  which  Enoch 
would  have  told  on  the  eve  of  his  translation,  —  the 
story,  not  of  a  vision  of  God,  but  of  a  walk  with 
God.  When  a  man  has  shut  himself  up  to  one 
thing  as  the  source  of  his  strength  and  happiness, 
he  will  find  out  a  great  deal  about  that  thing. 
Robinson  Crusoe,  when  he  had  once  made  up  his 
mind  that  his  life  must  be  confined  to  his  little 
island,  set  himself  to  discover  its  resources,  and 
found  in  it  a  multitude  of  things  which  he  never 
would  have  known  were  there  if  he  had  been  ex- 
pecting to  sail  away  in  a  week  or  two.  In  that 
event  he  would  have  used  his  island  only  for  the 
food  and  shelter  of  the  day.  That  is  the  way 
in  which  many  people  deal  with  God :  they  turn 
their  faces  towards  him  when  they  have  nowhere 
else  to  turn.  They  use  his  bounty  when  their  own 
supplies  fail.  As  soon  as  they  have  something  else 
to  look  at,  they  turn  their  faces  from  God  ;  and  it 
does  not  take  much  to  turn  them,  either.  A  silver 
dollar  held  before  your  eyes  will  conceal  the  whole 


68  FACING  GOD. 

orb  of  the  sun.  You  can  shut  out  an  entue  land- 
scape with  a  finger ;  and  it  is  amazing,  likewise, 
what  small  things  will  divert  men  from  God, 
what  a  little  temptation  will  shut  out  an  immense 
range  of  duty,  responsibility,  and  privilege.  Esau 
was  the  rightful  inheritor  of  a  splendid  destiny ; 
but  a  coarse  dish  of  red  lentils  shut  out  the  whole 
brilliant  future,  and  his  birthright  went  for  a  mess 
of  pottage.  Our  Psalmist  fixes  his  gaze  on  God : 
nothing  is  to  come  between  God  and  him.  He  has 
taken  counsel  with  his  soul,  and  said  unto  God, 
"  Thou  art  my  Lord.  I  have  no  good  beyond  thee. 
I  have  set  the  Lord  always  before  my  face." 

And  one  who  thus  keeps  God  always  before  him 
makes  discoveries,  and  many  of  them.  David,  in 
the  twenty-seventh  Psalm,  declares  that  he  has 
desired  one  thing,  and  will  seek  after  that ;  but 
that  one  thing  evidently  includes  a  great  deal  for 
him.  It  will  reveal  to  him  the  beauty  of  the 
Lord ;  it  will  give  him  opportunity  to  ask  ques- 
tions of  divine  wisdom  ;  it  will  afford  him  a  hiding- 
place  in  time  of  trouble,  and  a  means  of  triumj)h 
over  his  enemies.  Let  us,  then,  note  a  few  of  the 
many  things  which  a  man  finds  in  God  by  keeping 
him  always  before  his  face. 

He  finds  himself  revealed.  Li  the  Shinto  tem- 
ples in  Japan  the  shrines  contain  no  altars,  pul- 
pits, or  pictures,  but  only  a  circular  steel  mirror. 
What  it  means  is  not  known ;  but  it  would  be  no 
inappropriate  symbol  in  a  Christian  shrine,  to  set 
forth  the  self-revealing  power  of  the  word  of  God. 
Nor  is  the  symbol  without  its  warrant  in  Scripture. 


FACING  GOD.  69 

You  remember  that  James  draws  a  picture  of  a 
man  beholding  his  natural  face  in  a  glass,  consult- 
ing his  mirror  for  some  temporary  purpose  of  ar- 
ranging his  dress  or  hair ;  and  then  going  his  way, 
and  forgetting  all  about  it.     And   he   puts   tliis 
picture  in  contrast  with  another,  of  a  man  stoop- 
ing down,  and  looking  attentively,  and  fixing  the 
impression  of  what  he  sees,  so  as  to  keep  it  always 
before  his  face.     This  man,  who  looks  steadfastly 
into  God's   perfect  law,  and  translates  what   he 
sees  there  into  daily  practice,  this  man  "  shall  be 
blessed  in  his  doing,"  keeping  God  always  before 
his  face.     The  Psalmist  tells  us  he  receives  coun- 
sel, and  that,  not  only  by  way  of  direct  communi- 
cation, but  through  the  working  of  his  own  mind  : 
"  I  will  bless  the  Lord,  who  hath  given  me  coun- 
sel: my  reins  also  (that  is,  my  heart)  instruct  me 
in  the  night  seasons."     An  inner  spiritual  wisdom 
develops  in  the  quiet  meditation  and  communion 
with  God  in  the  night  season.     "The  night  sea- 
son," as  some  one  has  aptly  said,  "  which  the  sin- 
ner chooses  for  his  sins,  is  the  hour  when  believers 
hear  the  voices  of  the  heavenly  life  within  them- 
selves."    The  man  who  studies  God,  studies  self  at 
the  same  time  ;  the  man  who  steadfastly  follows 
Christ,  learns  as  much  about  self  as  he  learns  of 
Christ.      Self-knowledge   is  the   hardest   kind  of 
knowledge.     The  thing  which  is  identified  with 
our  interest  and  pleasure  is  not  always  the  thing 
which  we  know  best.     We  shut  our  eyes  to  its  im- 
perfections ;  we  look  at  it  only  on  the  side  where 
it  ministers  to  our  gain  or  enjoyment ;  we  do  not 


70  FACING  GOD. 

like  to  pick  flaws  in  the  self  which  we  love ;  we 
refuse  to  see  that  it  is  fallible  and  proud,  and 
otherwise  faulty :  it  is  ourself,  and  we  stand  by  it. 
But  when  Christ  persuades  us  to  deny  and  lay 
aside  self,  he  puts  self  in  a  position  where  we  can 
study  it  from  without ;  where  we  can  weigh  and 
test  it  by  higher  standards ;  where  we  can  set  it, 
with  all  its  greed  and  conceit  and  sophistry  and 
littleness,  beside  the  perfect  manhood  of  Jesus 
Christ,  and,  in  the  light  of  his  symmetr}^  and 
purity,  see  it  as  it  really  is :  and  hence  the  Psalm- 
ist says,  "  Thou  hast  set  our  secret  sins  in  the  light 
of  thy  countenance."  If  we  would  truly  know 
what  kind  of  men  and  women  we  are,  we  must 
set  the  man  Jesus  always  before  our  face. 

Setting  God  before  our  face  carries  with  it  a 
power  of  groiDtli.  God  is  not  only  always  before 
us :  he  is  always  going  before  us,  and  beckoning 
us  to  follow.  The  man  who  has  his  back  towards 
God,  like  one  who  has  the  sun  behind  him,  follows 
a  shadow.  The  Bible,  from  one  end  to  the  other, 
is  full  of  growth.  It  is  itself  a  growth.  It  is  a 
picture  of  God  leading  men  ;  and,  as  we  read  on, 
we  are  impressed  with  the  fact  of  an  advance  in 
humanity.  The  plane  is  higher  at  the  beginning 
of  Matthew  than  at  the  beginning  of  Exodus  ; 
and,  moreover,  the  New  Testament  .  especially 
thrills  with  the  summons  to  advance  and  growth : 
"  Grow  in  grace."  "  Forgetting  the  things  which 
are  behind,  and  stretching  forward  to  the  things 
which  are  before."  "  Be  no  more  children  ;  but 
grow   up   into   him   who   is   the   head."     "  Press 


FACING  GOD.  71 

toward  the  mark  for  the  prize  of  your  high  calling." 
Constant  contact  with  true  greatness  and  goodness 
lifts  even  a  small  man.     Enoch,  who  walked  with 
God,  must  have  acquired  a  divine  quality  in  his 
manhood.     In  the  very  nature  of  the  case,  a  man 
who  has  God  always  before  his  face  cannot  be 
stationary.     A  mountain  is  a  constant  temptation 
to  climb ;  and  when  one  has  climbed,  and  caught  a 
view  of  still  higher  summits  beyond,  he  is  restless 
until  he  has  climbed  them  too.     The  vision  of  God 
ever  draws  us  on  with  sweet  and  powerful  allure- 
ment.    The  more  we  learn  of  him,  the  more  we  see 
to  be  learned:   the  higher  we  rise  in   character, 
the  greater  possibilities  of  character  are  revealed. 
And  the  keeping  of  God  constantly  before  the 
face  engenders  liope.     Hope,  if  we  are  to  believe 
Paul,  is  the  very  atmosphere  in  which  a  Christian 
lives   and   breathes.     "We   are   saved  in   hope." 
The  creation  is  indeed  "subject  to  vanity,"  but 
"in  hope"  that  it  shall  be  "delivered  from  the 
bondage  of  corruption  into  the  liberty  of  the  glory 
of  the  children  of  God."     There  are  sufferings  of 
this  present  time ;  but  God  also  is  in  this  present 
time,  alike  as   a   fact  and  a  promise  of  glory  to 
be  revealed.     Amid  the  darkness  and  vagueness 
which  encircled   the    Old-Testament  future,  this 
psalm  is  like  a  sweet  flute-note  amid  the  crash  and 
discord  of  a  vast  orchestra.     I  know  nothing  more 
winning,  more  soothing,  than  these  verses,  which 
put  the  whole  future  into  God's  hands  with  such 
serene  trust  and  sure  confidence  that  all  will  be 
well  for  ever  and  ever.     I  have  not  been  moved. 


72  FACING   GOD. 

and  "  I  shall  not  be  moved ; "  because  the  Lord  is 
"  at  my  right  hand."  Because  he  is  at  my  right 
hand,  my  happiness  is  secure ;  for  "  at  his  right 
hand  are  pleasures  forevermore.  In  his  presence 
is  fulness  of  joy."  I  shall  not  wander  in  the  dark 
and  devious  ways  which  lead  to  death,  for  "  thou 
wilt  show  me  the  path  of  life."  Death  and  the 
grave  frighten  me  not :  "  thou  wilt  not  leave  my 
soul  to  the  unseen  world;  thou  wilt  not  suifer 
thy  beloved  one  to  see  the  pit.  I  have  no  good 
beyond  thee."  Oh,  how  wonderful  that  is !  No 
good  beyond  thee.  Thou  includest  all  good ;  the 
remotest  future  will  not  carry  me  beyond  thee ; 
the  march  of  eternity  will  not  overpass  thee ;  thou 
shalt  still  be  continually  before  my  face,  age  after 
age,  as  I  shall  rise  and  grow  and  work  on  ever- 
longer  lines  in  the  atmosphere  of  heaven,  chan- 
ging, developing,  but  ever  "  into  the  same  image, 
from  glory  to  glory."  In  this  world  we  are 
often  troubled  about  the  future.  Sometimes  the 
shadows  fall  backward,  and  cloud  all  our  present 
with  gloom :  but  it  need  not  be  so  if  only  we  keep 
the  Lord  continually  before  our  face ;  for  then  we 
are  going  forward  to  God,  and  after  God ;  and 
whatever  the  future  may  have  for  us,  it  will  have 
God,  and  that  is  enough.  So  Jesus  evidently 
thought  when  he  said  to  his  disciples, ."  I  will  re- 
ceive you  unto  myself,  that  where  I  am,  ye  may  be 
also."  It  was  enough  that  they  should  be  with  him : 
they  had,  and  could  have,  no  good  beyond  him. 

To-day,  as  we   approach  the   Lord's  table,  we 
bring  David  with  us.     The  words  of  the  Old-Tes- 


FACING  GOD.  73 

tament  saint  fit  into  the  holy  rite,  and  carry  with 
them  a  profound  Christian  meaning.  For  God 
ever  before  the  face  is  a  truth  of  God's  economy 
in  all  dispensations,  —  a  truth  bound  up  with  the 
fact  of  a  human  relation  to  God.  The  Christian 
dispensation  brings  out  the  truth  with  new  power, 
by  showing  the  glory  of  God  in  the  face  of  Jesus 
Clirist.  The  holy  sacrament  is  a  constantly  re- 
peated admonition  to  set  the  Lord  —  the  Lord  as 
revealed  in  Jesus,  our  Redeemer  —  always  before 
our  face.  Its  lesson  is,  "  looking  unto  Jesus ; " 
looking,  as  a  means  to  our  successful  running  of 
our  Christian  race ;  and  its  admonition  is  pointed 
in  this,  —  that  it  emphasizes  the  ahvays,  the  contin- 
ual keeping  of  Christ  before  us.  It  is  not  meant 
to  drag  our  faces  round  six  times  in  the  year,  and 
to  fasten  them  for  an  hour  on  Christ,  only  that  we 
may  turn  them  away  again  to  the  world  and  its 
vanities.  It  does  indeed  offer  us  a  reminder  of 
Christ;  but  it  reminds  us  that  Clu'ist  is  not  merely 
an  incident  of  our  life,  but  our  life  itself.  It 
sharpens  the  spiritual  perception,  and  brings  out 
the  lines  of  the  beloved  form  more  definitely ;  but 
it  says  to  us,  "  Look  now,  that  you  may  continue 
to  look."  Keep  the  form  which  faith  sees,  always 
before  your  face.  You  who  come  to-day  to  enjoy 
this  privilege  for  the  first  time,  take  this  thought 
into  all  your  life  henceforth :  for  you  can  have 
no  weightier  thought  attaching  to  this  sacrament, 
than  that  it  is  an  admonition  to  you  to  keep  Christ 
before  you  in  each  day's  life  ;  as  on  this  day  he  is 
set  before  you  in  symbol. 


Y. 

LIGHT   AND   LOYALTY. 


V. 

LIGHT  AND   LOYALTY. 

"  Jesus  answered,  Are  there  not  twelve  hours  in  the  day  ?  If 
a  man  walk  in  the  day,  he  stumbleth  not,  because  he  seeth  the 
light  of  this  world. 

"  But  if  a  man  walk  in  the  night,  he  stumbleth,  because  the 
light  is  not  in  him."  —  John  xi.  9,  10. 

THE  disciples  were  dismayed  when  Jesus  pro- 
posed to  go  to  Bethany  to  visit  Lazarus.  A 
Jewish  mob  was  no  trifle,  and  it  was  only  a  little 
while  before  that  the  Jews  had  sought  to  stone 
Jesus  for  what  they  counted  blasphemy.  They 
were  orthodox  but  ferocious,  and  would  not  hesi- 
tate to  murder  him. 

Hence  the  disciples  remonstrated  against  his 
exposing  himself  again  to  these  fanatics :  "  Master, 
the  Jews  were  but  now  seeking  to  stone  thee  ;  and 
goest  thou  thither  again  ?  "  They  spoke  for  them- 
selves as  well  as  for  him.  Thomas  evidently  ex- 
pected that  the  journey  to  Bethany  would  result 
in  death  to  him  and  to  them. 

Jesus  takes  this  opportunity  to  explain  to  his 
disciples  the  great  principle  on  which  he  himself 
worked ;  and,  to  commend  this  principle  to  them, 
he  puts  it  in  a  figurative  way.     If  a  man  walks 

77 


78  LIGHT  AND   LOYALTY. 

in  the  daytime  by  the  light  of  the  sun,  he  walks 
intelligently  and  securely.  If  he  tries  to  walk  in 
the  dark,  he  stumbles,  and  goes  astray.  I  walk 
in  God's  light,  which  shines  on  my  path  during 
the  time  he  has  fixed  for  my  ministry.  Wherever 
that  light  shines,  I  go,  regardless  of  every  thing 
but  the  light.  So  if  you,  my  disciples,  have  this 
same  divine  light  in  you,  and  follow  it,  you  will 
be  as  men  walking  in  the  daylight.  Your  path  of 
duty  will  be  clear.  Without  that  light,  you  will 
be  as  men  walking  in  the  dark,  —  stumbling,  and 
meeting  disaster.  You  will  have  no  clear  or  con- 
sistent ideas  of  duty,  and  your  practice  will  be  as 
confused  as  your  ideas. 

We  are  thus  led  up  to  the  question  of  the  sim- 
plicity of  duty.  Somehow  duty  has  come  to  be,  to 
many  of  us,  a  very  complicated  matter ;  and  possi- 
bly our  conceptions  of  it  have  tended  to  a  little 
haziness.  That  duty  presents  problems,  every  one 
of  us  knows  ;  but  it  is  a  fair  question,  whether  the 
problem  always  lies  in  the  duty^  and  does  not 
sometimes  lie  in  us.  It  is  a  fair  question,  whether 
we  do  not  often  complicate  the  problem  by  adding 
factors  of  our  own.  It  is  a  fair  question,  whether 
the  haziness  is  not  sometimes  in  our  eyes,  and  not 
in  the  moral  outlines  which  God  draws.  Christ 
asserts  the  possibility  of  the  light  in  us  being  dark- 
ness. The  oculist  will  tell  you  there  is  a  blind 
spot  in  ev^ery  eye.  Possibly,  when  we  think  that 
Ciod  has  made  duty  obscure,  we  have  brought  the 
duty  into  line  with  the  blind  spot. 

As   a  matter  of  precept,  duty  is  simpler  than 


LIGHT  AND   LOYALTY.  79 

perhaps  we  give  it  credit  for  being ;  for,  if  duty  is 
to  be  a  thing  of  universal  obligation,  it  must  be 
simple  in  the  nature  of  the  case.  To  make  it  a  mat- 
ter of  subtle  casuistry,  of  painful  research  and  nice 
balancing,  would  be,  at  best,  to  limit  it  to  a  very 
few,  and  to  make  moral  outcasts  of  the  rest.  The 
Jew  of  Christ's  day  made  it  just  that.  He  had 
gotten  into  a  muddle  over  the  moral  law ;  but  the 
muddle  was  in  him,  and  not  in  the  law.  The  law 
was  so  simple  and  clear  that  Christ  threw  it  into 
two  great  principles;  and  Christ  came  not  to 
destroy  it,  not  to  supplant  it,  but  to  clear  it  of  the 
rabbinical  rubbish  with  which  the  Jew  had  over- 
laid it.  The  fresh  simplicity  of  our  Lord's  teach- 
ing was  like  a  strong,  wholesome  breeze  sweeping 
away  cobwebs,  and  laying  bare  the  original  sim- 
plicity and  directness  of  the  old  code. 

But,  after  all,  our  thought  to-day  does  not  turn 
on  the  simplicity  of  the  moral  law  itself.  Men 
stumble  none  the  less  because  of  this  simplicity. 
Christ,  in  our  text,  does  not  put  the  blame  of  the 
stumbling  on  the  law  or  on  the  complication  of 
duty.  It  is  not  the  geological  structure  of  the 
stone  which  makes  the  man  stumble :  it  is  dark- 
ness or  blindness.  As  men  stumble  who  walk  in 
the  night,  and  stumble  because  they  do  not  walk 
in  the  twelve  hours  of  sunshine ;  so,  morally,  men 
stumble  because  of  moral  darkness  in  themselves. 
"  He  stumbleth  because  there  is  no  light  in  Imn." 
Our  Lord  here  asserts  that  a  divine  light  is  given 
to  men  to  guide  them  to  duty,  just  as  the  sun  is 
given  to  enlighten  the  way  by  which  they  travel. 


80  LIGHT  AND   LOYALTY. 

or  the  work  which  they  do  ;  and  that  that  light  is 
placed  by  God  liimself  in  the  man  himself,  just  as 
the  sunlight  is  set  working  through  the  human  eye 
to  produce  vision.  Hence  he  says  elsewhere  :  "  The 
lamp  of  thy  body  is  thine  eye :  when  thine  eye  is 
single,  thy  whole  body  also  is  full  of  light;  but 
when  it  is  evil,  thy  body  also  is  full  of  darkness. 
Look  therefore  whether  the  light  that  is  in  thee 
be  not  darkness.  If  therefore  thy  whole  body  be 
full  of  light,  having  no  part  dark,  it  shall  be 
wholly  full  of  light,  as  when  the  lamp  with  its 
bright  shining  doth  give  thee  light."  When  a 
man  sees  two  trees  where  there  is  only  one,  or  a 
crooked  line  where  there  is  a  straight  one,  or  pris- 
matic colors  in  a  house  that  is  white,  we  do  not 
blame  the  structure  of  the  tree  or  the  drawing  of 
the  line  or  the  painting  of  the  house.  We  say, 
the  man's  vision  is  diseased.  A  sound  moral  vision 
recognizes  duty  under  every  shape,  and  takes  its 
measure.  Hence  the  truth  of  our  text  is,  that  the 
recognition  of  duty,  and  the  practical  solutions  of 
its  problems,  lie  in  the  principle  of  loyalty  to 
Christ.  A  divinely  enlightened  conscience  and  an 
obedient  will,  not  only  push,  but  lead.  They 
prompt  to  duty,  but  they  also  define  it.  "  I  am 
the  light  of  the  world :  he  that  followeth  me 
shall  not  walk  in  darkness,  but  shall  have  the  light 
of  life."  In  other  words,  he  shall  be  enlightened 
as  to  how  to  live.  The  light  shall  shine  upon  the 
path  of  right  living,  and  the  path  of  the  just  shall 
prove  to  be  as  the  shining  light  that  shineth  more 
and  more  unto  the  perfect  day. 


LIGHT  AND   LOYALTY.  81 

Let  US  look,  now,  at  the  illustration  of  this  truth 
in  the  incident  of  our  text.  Going  to  Bethany 
involved  a  question  of  duty  for  Christ.  God  was 
to  be  glorified  in  his  son's  victory  over  death,  and 
the  faith  of  the  disciples  was  to  be  strengthened 
thereby.  The  obligation  was  laid  upon  Jesus  to 
go  to  Bethany  then. 

And  to  one  who  had  no  thought  but  to  do  the 
will  of  his  Father,  the  case  was  very  simple.  No 
question  was  possible.  There  was  that  plain  duty 
to  be  done,  and  the  light  shone  full  and  clear  upon 
the  way  to  Bethany. 

But  the  disciples,  in  their  natural  timidity,  put 
another  element  into  the  question,  which  compli- 
cated it :  that  was,  the  element  of  personal  safety. 
"If  you  go  to  Bethany  you  will  be  stoned,  and 
possibly  killed."  It  is  easy  to  see,  that,  if  Jesus 
had  entertained  this  suggestion,  his  mind  would 
have  been  diverted  from  the  plain  duty  before 
him.  A  new  question  would  have  been  raised, 
which  God  had  not  raised  at  all.  God's  commis- 
sion said  nothing  about  danger,  stoning,  or  death. 
It  was  simply  to  go  to  Bethany,  and  to  do  what 
was  to  be  done  there.  Every  thing  else  was  ex- 
cluded ;  and  so  long  as  Jesus  was  true  to  the  prin- 
ciple of  simple  loyalty  in  his  own  breast,  so  long 
as  he  refused  to  entertain  any  thought  beyond 
that  of  implicit  obedience  to  God's  command  as  it 
stood,  his  course  lay  out  in  the  clear  light.  It 
might  bring  him  into  peril,  but  the  course  itself 
was  plain.  If  he  meant  simply  to  do  right,  the 
decision  presented  no  difficulty  :    if  he  meant  to 


82  LIGHT   AND   LOYALTY. 

save  himself,  then  the  question  became  full  of  un- 
certainties, and  weighing  of  probabilities.  From 
the  moment  of  admitting  that  consideration,  he 
would  have  walked  in  darkness. 

What  an  expounder  of  duty  that  element  of 
singleness  is !  How  much  meaning  there  was  in 
our  Lord's  expression,  —  "A  single  eye  "  !  How 
much  easier  and  simpler  a  man's  walk  and  work 
are  when  he  sees  an  object  in  its  oneness,  than 
when  his  diseased  eye  doubles  it !  Is  not  single- 
ness of  purpose  an  element  of  all  the  heroism  of 
which  you  know  ?  Was  there  ever  a  great  general 
whose  thought  was  divided  between  victory  and 
personal  safety  ?  Would  the  six  hundred  ever 
have  passed  into  history  if  they  had  stopped  to 
weigh  the  probabilities  of  mutilation  and  death? 
The  familiar  poem   puts   that  singleness   power- 

fully:- 

"  Theirs  not  to  make  reply, 
Theirs  not  to  reason  why, 
Theirs  but  to  do  and  die." 

The  men  who  have  moved  society  have  moved 
under  that  principle  of  self-abandonment,  seeing 
nothing  but  the  end  to  be  won.  No  man  whose 
thought  was  divided  between  himself  and  his 
object  ever  succeeded  as  a  moral  reformer,  or  as  a 
helper  of  the  wretched.  When  a  physician  enters 
upon  liis  profession,  he  does  so  with  the  knowledge 
that  he  must  ignore  contagion.  That  makes  his 
duty  very  simple,  —  to  relieve  disease  and  pain 
wherever  he  finds  them.  The  moment  he  begins 
to  consider  whether  he  may  not  expose  his  own 


LIGHT  AND  LOYALTY.  83 

life  to  fever  or  cholera,  his  usefulness  is  over. 
When  Luther  stood  before  the  Diet  at  Worms,  he 
had  a  terrible  danger  to  face,  but  a  very  easy- 
question  to  solve.  His  most  significant  words,  as 
it  seems  to  me,  were,  "  I  can  do  no  otherwise  : " 
the  expression  of  a  loyalty  which  could  entertain 
no  other  thought  along  with  a  plain  issue  of  duty. 
Had  he  thought  of  imprisonment,  papal  ban,  papal 
favor,  or  death,  Christendom  would  not  be  ringing 
to-day  with  the  name  of  Luther.  That  inability 
to  do  any  thing  besides  the  one  right  thing  carried 
the  Reformation. 

And  this  singleness  is  the  very  essence  of  Chris- 
tian service,  on  Christ's  own  testimony.  Its  first 
law  is,  Deny  self,  —  treat  self  as  though  it  were 
not ;  follow  me.  It  is  not  always  easy  to  follow 
Christ ;  but  the  way,  at  least,  is  plain.^  A  greater 
difficulty  arises  the  moment  that  the  question  be- 
comes one  of  compromising  and  adjusting  between 
Christ  and  self.  A  man  gets  no  divine  help  ill  the 
solution  of  that  question,  because  Christ  refuses 
altogether  to  entertain  it.  The  command  to  take 
up  the  cross  is  the  command  to  throw  down  self. 
The  shoulder  of  self  will  not  bear  the  cross.  Self 
and  the  cross  exclude  each  other.  The  only  way 
in  which  self  can  ever  be  adjusted  to  the  cross  is 

1  "  For  the  object  of  religion  is  conduct ;  and  conduct  is  really, 
however  men  may  overlay  it  with  philosoi^hical  disquisitions,  the 
simplest  thing  in  the  world.  That  is  to  say,  it  is  the  simplest 
thing  in  the  world,  as  far  as  understandin(j  is  concerned  ;  as  re- 
gards doing,  it  is  the  hardest  thing  in  the  world.  Here  is  the 
difliculty,  —  to  do  what  we  very  well  know  ought  to  be  done."  — 
Matthew  Arnold  :  Literature  and  Dogma. 


84  LIGHT  AND   LOYALTY. 

by  being  nailed  to  it.  Any  other  mode  of  adjust- 
ment is  as  impracticable  as  the  squaring  of  the 
circle.  The  vital  question  in  all  cases  of  duty  is 
not  the  nature  of  the  duty,  but  the  fact  of  duty, 
and  your  and  my  attitude  toward  the  duty.  To 
what  does  the  duty  appeal  in  us  ?  Does  it  appeal 
to  a  settled  principle  that  duty  is  to  be  done  always 
and  everywhere,  because  it  is  duty  ?  or  to  a  princi- 
ple that  duty  is  to  be  done  under  certain  circum- 
stances, when  it  does  not  conflict  with  desire  or 
self-interest  ?  If  the  appeal  is  to  the  former  prin- 
ciple, then,  though  the  duty  itself  may  be  hard,  it 
is  not  hard  to  know  whether  it  ought  to  be  done. 
It  is  enough  that  it  is  duty.  No  man  can  ever 
walk  in  darkness  who  accepts  that  principle.  The 
largest  element  of  difficulty  is  removed  from  the 
case  when  self  is  forbidden  to  raise  the  questions 
of  hard  or  eas}-,  safe  or  dangerous.  Self  always 
makes  greater  difficulties  than  God  does. 

Duty  is  a  fixed  fact,  to  be  taken  as  it  is.  It 
does  not  adjust  itself  to  us  ;  we  must  adjust  our- 
selves to  it :  and  that  is  a  great  deal  easier,  hard 
though  it  be,  than  to  shape  the  duty  according  to 
our  notions.  There  is  a  nebulous  mass  far  off  in 
the  depths  of  space,  —  a  tangled  skein  of  stars, 
appearing  to  the  eye  like  a  volume  of  thin  vapor. 
The  problem  before  the  astronomer  ma}'"  be  very 
difficult  of  practical  solution,  but  the  nature  of  the 
problem  is  simple  and  clearly  defined.  He  is  to 
resolve  that  mist  into  its  component  stars,  and  to 
find  out,  if  he  can,  the  number  and  relative  posi- 
tion of  those  stars.     If  he  is  bent  on  brinsinsr  the 


LIGHT  AND   LOYALTY.  85 

facts  which  his  telescope  discovers  into  harmony 
with  some  theory  of  liis  own,  he  complicates  his 
task  at  once.     The  stars  will  not  change  their  size 
or   their  position  because    of  his   theory.     If  he 
would  know  the  facts  as  they  are,  he  simply  takes 
what  his  telescope  gives  him.     Then  every  thing 
depends  upon  his   telescope.     Let   some    careless 
or  malicious  hand  crack  the  lens,  or  incrust  the 
mirror  with  a  film,  his  observation  results  only  in 
guess-work :   but,  with  his  lens  and  mirror  clean 
and  rightly  adjusted,  his  eye  penetrates  the  veil  of 
mist ;  and  he  brings  back  from  the  infinite  spaces 
tidings  which  enrich  the  records  of  science.     So, 
when  men  look  at  duty  through  loyal  and  obedient 
hearts,    its   lines    come   out   plainly  and  sharply. 
Let  self  put  a  film  over  the  spirit,  duty  remains 
unchanged.     God's  will  must  be  done,  but  the  man 
sees  only  a  mist.     That  filmed  eye  raises  more  and 
harder  questions  than  the  duty  itself.     Duty  is  not 
complicated  by  elements  of  danger  and  self-sacri- 
fice :  the  complication  comes  out  of  our  refusal  to 
see  these  elements  as  parts  of  duty,  out  of  our  fruit- 
less attempt  to  see  duty  at  some  point  from  which 
the  danger  and  sacrifice  shall  disappear,  out  of  our 
determination  to  convince  ourselves  that  any  thing 
which  involves  danger  and  sacrifice  cannot  be  duty. 
When  the  engineer  sat  down  before  the  mountain 
which  divides  Italy  from  Switzerland,  and  decided 
that  his  railroad  must  go    straight  through  that 
mountain,  he  had  a  difficult  task  indeed,  but  a 
simple    one.      His   railroad   must   go   under   that 
mountain  ;  and  you  see,  that,  in  addressing  himself 


86  LIGHT  AND  LOYALTY. 

wholly  to  that  solution  of  his  problem,  he  at  once 
got  rid  of  a  thousand  questions  as  to  the  practica- 
bility of  other  routes,  and  the  possibility  of  getting 
round  or  over  the  mountain.  His  task  was  infi- 
nitely simplified  by  his  fixing  upon  a  definite 
course,  with  all  its  difficulties.  He  could  concen- 
trate all  his  ingenuity  and  skill  on  overcoming  the 
difficulties. 

I  take  it  no  one  ever  had  so  clear  a  perception 
of  the  hardness  and  agony  which  his  mission  in- 
volved as  Christ  himself  had ;  so  clear  and  vivid, 
indeed,  that  his  humanity  more  than  once  recoiled, 
and  cried,  "  Father,  save  me  from  this  hour.  If  it 
be  possible,  let  this  cup  pass  from  me  !  "  And  yet 
the  closest  study  of  Christ's  life  reveals  not  a 
shadow  of  hesitation  or  doubt  about  following  the 
line  of  duty.  His  step  is  as  firm  toward  Bethany, 
where  he  knows  that  the  Jews  may  be  waiting  to 
stone  him,  as  when  he  is  going  to  the  sweet  retire- 
ment and  hospitality  of  Mary's  and  Martha's  home. 
Whether  duty  points  to  Zaccheus'  feast  or  to 
Calvary,  he  walks  with  equal  decision.  He  goes 
to  the  cross  saying,  "  The  Scripture  must  be  ful- 
filled." He  comes  back  from  the  dead  saying, 
"  Thus  it  behooved  Christ  to  suffer."  Sometimes 
as  we  look  at  this  firm,  constant  walk  of  our  Lord, 
we  are  moved  to  say,  "  Would  that  duty  were  as 
plain  to  me  as  it  seems  to  have  been  to  him ;  would 
that  I  could  move  forward  without  hesitation  as 
he  did."  And  then  we  go  on  to  reason  that  this 
may  not  be ;  because  Christ  was  so  superior  to  us, 
and  possessed  of  divine  knowledge.     But  we  are 


LIGHT  AND   LOYALTY.  87 

wrong  there.    Whatever  Christ  was,  he  was  a  man ; 
and  duty  was  no  different  a  thing  to  Christ  than 
it  is  to  us  ;  and  Christ  not  only  tells  us  in  our  text 
the  secret  of  his  own  clear  perception  and  unfalter- 
ing pursuit  of  duty,  but  gives  us  the  same  secret 
for  our  own  use:  "If  a  man  walk  in  the  day,  he 
stumbleth  not,  because  he  seeth  the  light  of  this 
world."     The  case  was  not  that  Christ  knew  the 
nature  and  bearings  of  duty  better  than  we  do 
(though   that   is   true),  but   it  was   that   Christ 
walked  in  the  light  of  simple  loyalty  to  God,  under 
the  simple  rule  that  God's  will  was  to  be  done ; 
refusing  to  admit  into  his  mind  any  question  but 
this  :  "  Is  it,  or  is  it  not,  the  will  of  God  ?  "     The 
motto  of  his  life  is  given  by  himself  at  Jacob's 
well :  "  My  meat  is  to  do  the  will  of  liim  that  sent 
me,  and  to  finish  his  work."     Living  by  that  prin- 
ciple, he  walked  in  the  light.     His  eye  was  single, 
and  his  whole  body  was  therefore  full  of  light. 
He  admitted  no  question  of  stoning  or  crucifying. 
He  knew  that  duty  involved  loneliness  and  hatred 
and  homelessness  and  persecution  and  crucifixion ; 
but  it  was  enough  that  it  was  duty.     And  hence 
it  is  that  his  life,  while  it  is  the  most  tremendous 
tragedy  in   history,  ranging   through   the   whole 
gamut  of  human  experience,  marked  by  an  infinite 
variety  of  incident,  is   the   most   purely  simple, 
clearly  cut  life  in  all  its  relations  to  duty  of  which 
we  have  any  knowledge.     This  singleness  of  eye, 
this  principle  of  absolute  loyalty  to  truth  as  truth, 
and  to  duty  as  duty,  relieved  his  life  of  a  thousand 
elements  of  perplexity  and  hesitation  which  con- 


88  LIGHT  AND   LOYALTY. 

fronted  other  men.  As  a  straight  road  carries  one 
past  a  multitude  of  thickets  and  bogs  and  stony- 
places,  even  though  the  road  itself  may  be  rough ; 
so  Christ's  path,  though  it  was  a  rough  way,  and 
led  to  Gethsemane  and  Golgotha,  carried  him  past 
all  questions  of  policy,  —  questions  of  making  a 
good  appearance,  questions  of  the  good  opinion  of 
the  world,  of  wealth,  of  worldly  position,  — past  all 
the  endless  perplexities  which  wait  on  the  effort  to 
compromise  between  God  and  the  world,  all  those 
things,  in  short,  which  are  the  torment  of  nine- 
tenths  of  the  world  to-day,  and  which  make  duty, 
even  to  so  many  Christians,  a  sphynx's  riddle. 

Now,  look  at  a  contrast  to  this  straightforward, 
clear  course  of  Jesus  at  Bethany.  Take  an  Old- 
Testament  case,  —  Saul  at  Michmash.  The  matter 
of  duty  there  was  as  plain  and  simple  as  at  Beth- 
any. God  had  said  to  Saul,  "Do  not  move  the 
army  without  sacrificing  to  God ;  do  not  offer  sac- 
rifice yourself,  but  wait  till  Samuel  comes."  Saul 
had  only  to  wait  till  Samuel  should  come,  whether 
it  were  seven  days,  or  seventy ;  and  if  he  had  fixed 
his  mind  on  that  single  point  of  duty,  his  course 
would  have  been  as  plain  as  the  sun  in  heaven. 
There  were  indeed  other  considerations,  but  not 
for  Am  to  discuss.  Obedience  to  that  naked  com- 
mand involved  apparent  trouble  and  disaster ;  but 
God  had  said  nothing  about  these,  only  "  Wait." 
But  Saul  admitted  those  other  considerations.  He 
would  not  walk  in  the  light  of  that  simple  duty. 
He  admitted  the  possibility,  that  circumstances 
might  justify  him  in  disobeying  God.     And  the 


LIGHT  AND   LOYALTY.  89 

moment  he  did  that,  you  see  how  his  course  became 
complicated.  What  a  multitude  of  hard  questions 
crowded  upon  him.  The  enemy  was  concentrat- 
ing, the  soldiers  deserting :  a  decisive  blow  must 
be  struck.  He  was  burdened  at  once  with  the 
solution  of  all  these  difficulties,  instead  of  having 
simply  to  wait.  True  faith  and  simple  loyalty 
would  have  left  all  these  matters  in  God's  hands ; 
but  Saul  had  not  true  faith  and  simple  loyalty. 
He  assumed  the  functions  of  a  priest,  he  sacrificed 
to  the  very  God  he  was  disobeying ;  and  his  pre- 
sumption cost  him  his  kingdom. 

In  short,  the  life  of  obedience  to  God,  while  it 
bears  the  cross,  and  includes  danger  and  self-sacri- 
fice, is  simpler  and  easier  than  the  life  of  worldly 
policy  and  self-interest.  The  selfish  life  always 
walks  in  darkness,  though  it  often  prides  itself  on 
its  astuteness.  The  loyal,  unselfish  principle  of 
duty  carries  with  it  a  power  of  revelation.  If  duty 
is  merely  a  question  of  circumstances,  then  every 
new  set  of  circumstances  raises  a  new  question 
and  a  new  difficulty.  If  duty,  on  the  other  hand, 
is  a  matter  of  absolute  obligation  under  all  cir- 
cumstances, then  the  whole  mass  of  such  questions 
and  difficulties  is  disposed  of  at  a  blow.  In  the 
most  confused  whirl  of  circumstances,  Christ's  true 
follower  knows  his  way. 

And  Christ's  teaching  and  example  in  this  mat- 
ter are  valuable  to  every  age.  To  none  more  than 
to  tliis,  when  the  selfish  and  politic  principles  of 
the  world  seem  to  be  pouring  like  a  flood  over  the 
lines  of  Christian  duty.     In  an  age  which  tends  to 


90  LIGHT  AND  LOYALTY. 

moral  compromise,  this  principle  which  illumined 
Christ's  way  ought  to  be  sharply  defined  and  em- 
phasized in  the  consciousness  of  every  Christian. 
If  there  is  a  word  to  be  spoken  for  truth  and 
righteousness,  even  though  it  recoil  upon  the  man 
who  speaks  it  in  abuse,  or  in  social  or  political  or 
religious  ostracism,  he  must  none  the  less  speak  it ; 
looking  not  at  the  recoil,  but  at  the  truth  and  the 
righteousness.  If  there  is  a  protest  to  be  made  by 
example  against  social  looseness  and  corruption, 
the  loyal  Christian  cannot  be  in  doubt  about  what 
his  duty  is,  though  he  may  shrink  from  the  hard- 
ness of  the  duty  itself.  His  way  lies  straight 
before  him.  It  is  an  easier  way  than  the  path  of 
compromise.  Almost  daily,  practical  issues  arise 
in  our  lives  which  bring  us  face  to  face  with  this 
teaching  of  Christ ;  issues  where  the  only  light  we 
can  get  will  come  from  a  loyal  and  obedient  heart : 
where,  the  moment  we  step  out  of  the  line  of  light 
which  streams  straight  from  God's  Word,  we  are 
in  darkness  and  confusion.  I  repeat  it :  we  sim- 
plify life  and  duty,  we  clear  up  and  dispose  of  a 
multitude  of  hard  questions,  by  taking,  as  our 
fixed,  immutable  principle,  duty,  always  and  every- 
where. Suppose  duty  costs  reputation,  popularity, 
ease,  social  approval :  it  is  none  the  less  duty  for 
that  reason.  Christ  does  not  mean  to  save  us 
cost.  He  gives  fair  warning  of  that.  He  does 
not  promise  that  the  man  who  walks  in  the  light 
shall  have  an  easy  walk.  He  promises  that  he 
shall  not  stumble:  but  Clu-ist  did  not  stumble 
because  he  was  crucified ;  Stephen  did  not  stumble 


LIGHT  AND   LOYALTY,  91 

because  he  was  stoned ;  Paul  did  not  stumble  be- 
cause he  was  imprisoned  and  beheaded.  Each  of 
the  lives  over  the  cross,  the  stone,  the  prison, 
walked  straight  to  its  goal ;  and  their  track  lies  out 
in  the  light  as  a  lesson  and  a  warning  to  every  one 
who  would  live  a  true,  loyal,  faithful  life.  The 
stumbling  begins  the  moment  we  let  in  any  other 
consideration  than  that  of  duty.  Darkness  and 
confusion  come  in  with  these.  The  stumbling 
would  have  been  in  Christ  accepting  Satan's  offer 
of  the  kingdoms  of  the  world,  in  Stephen  keeping 
silence ;  in  Paul  making  terms  with  Nero  and 
with  the  Jewish  leaders,  and  saying  smooth  things 
to  the  debauchees  at  Corinth,  and  to  the  philoso- 
phers at  Athens.  If  a  man  adds  to  his  life  by 
avoiding  the  danger  that  lies  in  the  path  of  duty, 
that  added  life  is  no  gain.  It  has  no  divine  bless- 
ing and  no  divine  guidance.  Such  life  is  not 
God's  gift:  it  is  filched  by  him  who  wins  it. 
Reputation,  popularity,  security,  won  by  evasion 
of  duty,  are  not  gains.  They  shine  in  a  false  and 
transient  light,  and  they  will  soon  lapse  into  dark- 
ness. The  light  shines  steadily  to-day  over  Beth- 
any, —  light  which  gilds  the  door  of  every  closed 
tomb.  Better  that  Christ  should  have  gone  in  the 
face  of  the  stones  than  that  the  world  should  have 
missed  the  lesson  of  the  resurrection  and  the  life. 
Tlie  light  of  all  the  ages  centres  in  the  cross. 
Better  all  that  agony  than  that  the  world  should 
have  missed  a  Saviour.  Better  the  light  and  glory 
and  honor,  in  which  Christ  and  his  apostles  and 
the  good  and  true  of  all  time  stand  enshrined  to- 


92  LIGHT   AND    LOYALTY. 

da}',  than  if  they  had  shirked  the  cross  and  the 
scourge,  the  prison,  and  the  sneer  of  the  world. 

But  remember  that  this  steadfast,  light-giving 
principle  in  the  soul  is  not  a  matter  of  mere 
human  resolve.  As  I  have  often  told  you,  no 
radiant,  life-giving  life  is  ever  generated  by  a 
mere  code  of  laws,  or  by  mere  strength  of  resolu- 
tion. Christ  is  in  the  soul  as  an  inspiration,  and 
not  merely  before  the  eye  as  an  example.  The 
single  heart  is  formed  only  by  the  living  contact 
of  God's  spirit.  The  single  heart  is  the  pure 
heart ;  and  no  amount  of  resolution,  no  library  of 
moral  treatises,  no  portrait-gallery  of  holy  exam- 
ples, can  of  themselves  purify  the  heart.  That  is 
the  work  of  God's  transforming  spirit  alone. 

And  once  more  remember,  that  though  Christ, 
in  setting  you  on  that  well-lighted  track  of  duty, 
does  not  allow  you  to  take  account  of  the  hardness. 
He  takes  account  of  it.  He  has  been  over  every 
inch  of  the  ground  himself :  he  has  felt  the  rend- 
insr  of  the  thorns,  and  his  feet  have  been  bruised 
by  the  same  stones  which  bruise  yours.  You  can- 
not live  a  life  so  hard  that  Christ  has  not  lived  a 
harder,  you  cannot  make  so  great  a  sacrifice  that 
Christ  has  not  made  a  greater.  He  does  not  push 
you  out  on  straight  lines  of  hard  duty  to  walk 
alone.  He  goes  before.  His  word  is,  "Follow 
me !  "  And  all  along  that  line  he  walks  close  to 
you,  even  as  he  promised,  when  he  said,  "  Lo,  I 
am  with  you  alway."  Only  keep  the  eye  on  him, 
follow  him  anywhere  and  everywhere,  and  you 
cannot  go  wrong :  you  cannot  get  into  darkness  in 


LIGHT  AND  LOYALTY.  93 

questions  of  duty.  He  is  a  strict  but  a  tender 
master ;  and  on  the  way  in  which  he  leads  you 
are  not  only  crosses  and  thorns,  but  light  and 
love  and  sympathy  and  peace,  and,  at  the  end, 
heaven. 

"  Deem  not  that  they  are  blest  alone 
Whose  lives  a  peaceful  tenor  keep ; 
For  God,  who  pities  man,  has  shown 
A  blessing  for  the  eyes  that  weep. 

There  is  a  day  of  sunny  rest 

For  every  dark  and  troubled  night ; 

Though  grief  may  bide  an  evening  guest, 
Yet  joy  shall  come  with  early  light. 

Nor  let  the  good  man's  trust  depart, 
Though  life  its  common  gifts  deny,  — 

Though  with  a  pierced  and  broken  heart. 
And  spurned  of  men,  he  goes  to  die. 

For  God  has  marked  each  sorrowing  day, 

And  numbered  every  secret  tear ; 
And  heaven's  eternal  bliss  shall  pay 

For  all  his  children  suffer  here." 


YI. 

THE   ORDERED   STEPS. 


VI. 

THE   ORDERED    STEPS. 

"The  steps  of  a  good  man  are  ordered  by  the  Lord:  and  he 
delighteth  in  his  way. 

"Though  he  fall,  he  shall  not  be  utterly  cast  down:  for  the 
Lord  upholdeth  him  with  his  hand."  —  Ps.  xxxvii.  23,  24. 

THAT  first  step  of  your  little  child, — what  an 
event  it  is  !  After  the  child  has  grown  into  a 
strong  and  hearty  boy,  his  walking  does  not  inter- 
est you  in  itself,  but  only  in  its  direction,  which 
often  menaces  his  safety  or  that  of  your  household 
treasures ;  but  now  the  single  step  is  a  thing  of 
profound  meaning.  One,  two,  three,  —  each  time 
your  eye  is  on  the  little  foot,  and  your  hand  ready 
to  catch  the  tottering  form  at  the  first  symptom 
of  a  fall.  Never  again  will  single  steps  have  such 
interest  for  you.  And  yet  why  not?  In  manhood, 
no  less  than  in  infancy,  single  steps  are  significant. 
You  find  it  out  sometimes  in  disagreeable  Avays. 
One  step  in  the  dark  carries  you  off  firm  footing 
into  an  open  trap,  or  down  a  bank.  The  first  step 
down  a  wrong  road  is  the  beginning  of  trouble- 
some, and  possibly  dangerous,  wanderings.  The 
first  wrong  step, — how  many  men  have  looked 
down  a  dismal  perspective,  and  have  seen  it  like 


98  THE   ORDERED   STEPS. 

a  footprint  of  fire!  The  first  step  to  honor  or 
fortune,  —  how  much  meaning  it  has  after  the 
honor  or  the  fortune  has  been  won  ! 

Now,  Scripture  holds  to  the  emphasis  upon  the 
single  steps.  The  word  "  walk,"  as  you  know,  is 
constantly  used  by  it  to  express  the  course  and 
method  of  a  man's  life:  "Enoch  walked  with 
God."  "Thou  shalt  keep  the  commandments  of 
the  Lord  thy  God,  to  walk  in  his  ways."  "  Walk 
while  ye  have  the  light."  "  See  that  ye  walk  cir- 
cumspectl}^"  These  are  a  few  instances  out  of 
scores.  Walking  is  a  matter  of  steps ;  and,  in  God's 
training  of  men,  he  directs  their  attention  to  the 
single  steps  rather  than  to  the  course  of  their  lives 
as  a  whole  —  to  the  details  of  the  life,  in  other 
words,  rather  than  to  the  life  at  large.  This  is  the 
first  truth  of  our  text :  God  orders^  arrayiges^  es- 
tablishes^ the  details  of  his  children  s  lives. 

There  is  a  practical  wisdom  in  this.  We  speak 
contemptuously  sometimes  about  a  man  of  details, 
as  if  he  were  an  inferior  sort  of  man ;  but  really 
very  fcAV  of  mankind  have  the  ability  to  grasp 
large  masses  of  work,  and  succeed  only  by  doing 
work  in  detail,  a  piece  at  a  time,  each  day's  duty, 
in  its  day.  And  the  man  who  can  give  details  over 
to  somebody  else,  and  devote  himself  to  the  larger 
aspects  of  his  business,  is  no  less  dependent  upon 
details  than  before.  He  is  at  the  top  of  the  ladder, 
but  the  top  rests  on  what  is  below.  He  had  to 
climb  the  steps  to  the  top. 

There  is  also  a  profound  philosophy  in  this. 
The  principle  has  a  very  wide  reach.      The  boy 


THE   ORDERED   STEPS.  99 

who  saves  penny  after  penny  in  order  to  make  up 
his  dollar,  is  working  on  a  line  which  goes  out 
through  all  the  universe.  His  little  economy  is 
an  outcome  of  the  great  truth  that  God  moves 
masses  through  details.  When  the  attraction  of 
gravitation  acts  upon  that  cannon-hall  as  it  flies 
through  the  air,  and  gradually  draws  it  to  the 
ground,  the  attraction  is  exerted,  not  upon  the 
ball  as  a  mass,  but  upon  each  separate  particle. 
When  water,  in  obedience  to  its  law,  flows  down 
a  steep,  the  force  which  draws  it  down  to  its  level 
acts  upon  each  separate  drop.  Thus,  then,  the 
particles  of  the  cannon-ball  do  not  fall  to  the 
ground  because  they  are  included  in  the  mass. 
The  particles  make  the  mass,  and  the  mass  falls 
because  of  the  force  exerted  upon  the  separate 
particles.  The  drops  make  up  the  current.  There 
is  a  current  because  the  attraction  draws  every 
drop  to  its  level. 

This  law  of  matter  is  a  law  of  morals,  a  law  of 
providence,  a  law  of  divine  economy :  the  greater 
is  reached  and  moved  through  the  less,  the  mass 
through  the  detail.  Character  is  an  accretion,  an 
aggregate.  A  man  is  what  the  details  of  his  life 
are,  whether  in  his  business  life,  his  intellectual 
life,  or  his  moral  life.  He  receives  great  impulses 
in  all  these  spheres,  but  all  these  impulses  work 
out  their  result  through  detail.  See  the  illustra- 
tion of  this  in  the  history  of  Divine  Providence  as 
we  have  it  in  the  Bible.  One  of  the  most  common 
of  popular  delusions  is,  that  God  is  always  and 
only  busied  with  great  things ;   and  yet   in   the 


100  THE  ORDERED   STEPS. 

Bible  he  is  constantly  dealing  with  details.  He  is 
explaining  a  servant's  dream  ;  he  is  providing  for 
a  little  castaway  babe  in  a  bulrush  basket ;  he  is 
furnishing  water  to  a  thirsty  crowd  of  people ;  he 
is  dictating  a  code  which  goes  into  every  item  of 
eating  and  drinking  and  cleansing;  he  is  giving 
directions  about  fringes  and  embroideries,  about 
blue  and  scarlet  curtains,  about  the  patterns  of  the 
priests'  dresses,  and  the  knops  and  flowers  in  the 
temple  architecture. 

The  case  is  no  different  when  he  becomes  mani- 
fest in  the  flesh.  Christ's  life  and  work  are  full 
of  detail.  Now  he  is  coming  out  to  comfort  some 
poor  fishermen  in  their  lonely  toil,  and  to  fill  their 
nets  with  fish.  Now  he  is  caressing  little  children, 
again  noting  a  poor  widow's  little  coin  dropped 
into  the  treasury,  or  talking  with  a  wretched  wo- 
man by  a  well,  or  supplying  wine  for  a  wedding,  or 
bread  and  fish  for  a  hungry  multitude. 

The  same  thing  appears  in  Christ's  preaching. 
He  tells  men  how  to  live  ;  but  he  says  nothing  about 
great,  far-reaching  plans  of  life.  His  talk  is  rather 
of  living  by  the  day,  and  letting  the  morrow  take 
thought  for  the  things  of  itself.  He  treats  of  our 
talk,  yet  not  of  our  studied  discourses  and  elaborate 
orations ;  rather  of  our  ordinary  communication, 
our  words,  our  common  aflirmations  and  denials : 
and  by  these  he  tells  us  we  shall  be  justified  or  con- 
demned. He  comes  to  reveal  God  to  us :  but  his 
speech  is  not  about  the  God  of  vast  designs  and 
transcendent  power  ;  ratlier  of  one  who  paints  each 
lily  of  the  fields,  and  feeds  the  birds,  and  marks  the 


THE  ORDERED   STEPS.  101 

sparrow's  fall,  and  numbers  tlie  hairs  of  our  heads. 
He  teaches  men  their  duty  to  society :  but  he  says 
nothing  of  great  schemes  of  beneficence  ;  rather, 
he  cautions  us  against  harming  the  little  ones  ; 
bids  us  visit  the  sick  and  the  piisoner,  and  give 
the  cup  of  cold  water  to  the  wayfarer  ;  to  speak  a 
kind  word  for  an  angry  one,  and  to  meet  the  blow 
with  forgiveness.  And,  when  he  promises  reward, 
he  sums  up  the  achievements  of  the  best  and 
crreatest  in  these  words,  —  "  Thou  hast  been  faitJir 
ful  over  a  few  things." 

Thus  you  see  one  law  —  the  law  of  the  steps  — 
running  through  physical  and  moral  nature  alike. 
Gravitation  and  Providence  observe  the  same  prin- 
ciple. God  regulates  the  mass  through  the  particles ; 
society,  through  the  individual ;  the  individual, 
through  the  details  of  his  life.  Men,  with  their 
joys  and  sorrows  and  infirmities,  are  not  carried 
down  and  swallowed  up  as  single  drops  in  a  cur- 
rent. Each  individual  soul  in  the  great  sweeping 
tide  of  souls,  each  element  in  the  experience  of 
each  soul,  is  the  subject  of  his  divine  forces.  The 
drops  determine  the  tide,  the  steps  determine  the 
life ;  and  the  life  which  is  led  by  him  is  led  step  by 
step,  and  each  separate  step  has  its  meaning  and 
its  relation  to  every  other  step.  We  do  not  see 
this.  As  life  unrolls  day  by  day,  the  duties  appear 
to  have  so  little  relation  to  each  other  that  we 
receive  no  impression  of  design  or  plan.  There 
seems  to  be  that  absence  of  design  even  in  the 
Saviour's  own  words:  "The  morrow  shall  be 
anxious  for  itself."     But  that  is  only  in  appear- 


102  THE  ORDERED  STEPS. 

ance.  The  steps  of  a  good  man  are  established; 
not  ordered  each  day  as  emergencies  arise,  but 
pre-arranged.  The  plan,  the  pre-arrangement,  does 
not  appear  when  you  see  that  laborer  laying  a 
single  course  of  brick  or  stone  ;  but  the  architect 
sees  that  course  as  part  of  his  design.  We  must 
study  history,  and  especially  Bible  history,  to  real- 
ize that  life  evolves  itself  according  to  a  plan. 
Look,  for  instance,  at  the  familiar  story  of  Joseph. 
The  plan  is  plain  enough  to  us  now.  We  see  a 
meaning  and  a  mutual  relation  in  all  the  separate 
events  of  that  history,  but  Jacob  did  not  see  it. 
He  said,  "  All  these  things  are  against  me  ;  "  while 
we  know,  and  he  afterwards  found  out,  that  they 
were  all  for  him.  To  Joseph  the  pit  did  not  mean 
the  place  next  the  throne.  The  same  is  true  of  all 
history.  God  moves  on  such  long  lines  that  it 
takes  a  good  many  centuries,  with  their  countless 
steps  of  countless  men,  to  Avork  out  a  design  of 
his ;  yet  that  plan  bears  the  footmark  of  every  one 
of  those  millions,  and  its  lines  are  only  the  lines  of 
those  myriad  lives. 

The  steps  of  a  good  man,  then,  are  ordered.  He 
does  not  walk  at  random.  His  life  is  not  a  series , 
of  accidents  which  some  superior  power  gathers 
up  after  a  while,  as  a  potter  might  gather  the  loose 
fragments  of  clay,  and  mould  them  into  what  he 
could.  And  really  you  and  I,  in  our  measure,  are 
familiar  with  the  same  fact,  and  act  it  out.  You 
see  in  a  son  of  yours  promise  of  intellectual  and 
moral  power ;  and  you  set  yourself  to  shape  that 
boy's  career,  and  you  do  shape  it,  and  that  by 


THE   ORDERED   STEPS.  103 

attending  to  its  successive  steps.  You  watch  and 
care  for  every  detail  of  his  training,  and  the  boy's 
life  bears  the  mark  of  your  ordering.  Is  there 
any  thing  strange  in  our  heavenly  Father's  ordering 
the  steps  of  his  children  ?  Is  not  the  true  reason- 
ing from  the  less  to  the  greater?  '■'- How  mueh 
more  shall  your  heavenly  Father  give  good  things 
to  them  that  ask  him." 

We  talk  a  great  deal  of  our  free  choices,  our 
independence,  our  self-determination  ;  but,  if  we 
insist  on  these,  we  do  not  come  within  the  Psalm- 
ist's description.  It  is  the  steps  of  a  f/ood  man  that 
are  established.  I  do  not  say  that  God  has  nothing 
to  do  with  the  steps  of  others ;  he  has  very  much 
to  do  with  them  :  but  we  are  not  concerned  with 
that  now.  The  good  man  of  the  Psalmist's 
thought  is  the  man  of  law,  —  the  man  who  rec- 
ognizes the  excellence  and  the  rightful  claim  of 
the  divine  law,  and  who  gives  himself  up  to  it. 
The  Bible  alternative  is  very  sharp  and  plain. 
Either  we  are  to  be  ordered  by  God,  or  we  are  to 
be  self-ordered.  If  we  undertake  to  order  our  own 
steps,  we  must  take  the  consequences,  and  relin- 
quish all  claim  upon  God's  ordering.  I  am  not 
preaching  to  you  inflexible  fate,  but  obedience  to 
divine  wisdom;  not  the  passive  submission  of  a 
corpse  to  a  rushing  current,  but  the  loving  and 
intelligent  obedience  of  a  free  will.  There  are 
those  who  seem  to  think  that  obedience  is  incon- 
sistent with  freedom,  and  that  a  man  shows  his 
freedom  by  revolt  against  law.  They  forget  that 
a  free  will  may  choose  to  obey  another  will.     If 


104  THE   ORDERED   STEPS. 

God  has  prepared  tracks  for  my  life;  surely  ray 
very  freedom  of  choice  empowers  me  to  keep  to 
those  tracks:  and,  to  the  obedient,  loving  soul, 
it  is  an  immense  comfort  and  relief  to  know 
that  his  life  moves  on  prepared  lines.  I  sat  one 
evening  in  a  window  looking  out  on  Charing- 
Cross  railway-station,  with  its  trains  arriving  and 
departing  every  few  minutes,  and  its  cross-tides  of 
thronging  people.  A  train  stood  on  the  track, 
and  the  bell  rang  for  starting.  In  front,  through  the 
great  archways,  I  looked  out  into  the  misty  night. 
A  few  stray  gleams  of  light  revealed  a  labyrinth 
of  rails,  curving  and  crossing  :  above  was  a  signal- 
stand —  a  great  hieroglyph  of  green,  red,  and 
white  lights,  shifting  every  moment ;  and  into  this 
darkness  and  confusion  the  engine  moved.  What 
was  it  that  made  that  engineer  so  quiet  and  confi- 
dent ?  Why  was  he  not  disturbed  and  anxious  at 
the  chaos  of  rails  and  lights  and  the  thick  night 
beyond  ?  Simply  because  every  thing  was  laid 
down  for  him.  He  had  only  to  obey  the  signals, 
and  drive  his  engine :  the  track  was  laid.  Other 
minds  had  the  care  and  responsibility  of  the 
switches  and  signal-lights :  he  had  only  to  go  for- 
ward, and  to  stop  when  bidden. 

"  I  do  not  like  the  picture,"  some  one  will  per- 
haps say.  "  It  leaves  me  little  to  say  about  my 
life."  Well,  change  the  picture  if  you  will.  Let 
the  engineer  go  forth  from  the  station  on  an  en- 
gine not  fitted  to  a  track.  Let  him  move  out  into 
the  night,  in  the  consciousness  of  independence  and 
free  choice,  to  avoid  collision  and  wreck  as  he  can. 


THE  ORDERED   STEPS.  105 

Have  you  bettered  the  matter  any  ?  Are  you  any 
better,  any  more  dignified,  any  more  secure,  strik- 
ing out  into  this  selfish  world  on  your  own  respon- 
sibility, and  with  only  your  own  wisdom  ?  Have 
ever  so  much  to  say  about  the  ordering  of  your 
own  life,  the  simple  question  is,  whither  your 
ordering  will  take  you.  The  area  of  human  life 
is  marked  all  over  with  these  tracks  of  individual 
choice,  but  unfortunately  they  are  lined  with 
wrecks.  There  are  no  wrecks  along  the  lines  on 
which  God  orders  the  steps :  "  He  that  walketh 
uprightly  walketh  surely."  "  Acknowledge  him 
in  all  thy  ways,  and  he  shall  direct  thy  steps." 

The  second  truth  of  the  text  is,  that  G-od  is 
pleased  tvith  Mm  who  thus  lets  his  steps  be  ordered. 
Literally  the  words  read,  "From  Jehovah  is 
it  that  a  man's  steps  are  established,  so  that 
he  hath  pleasure  in  his  way."  This  need  not 
detain  us  long.  It  is  self-evident  that  God  is 
pleased  to  have  men  walk  in  the  ways  which  he 
himself  ordains  ;  and  his  pleasure  is  not  simply  in 
the  fact  that  he  is  obeyed,  not  merely  in  receiving 
from  men  the  tribute  of  respect  and  submission 
which  is  his  due.  We  do  God  a  great  wrong 
when  we  picture  him  as  a  creditor  whose  interest 
in  his  debtors  begins  and  ends  with  their  j^aying 
their  debts.  God  merges  the  relation  of  debtor 
and  creditor  in  that  of  father  and  child.  It  is  a 
very  small  part  of  your  interest  in  your  child,  that 
he  should  repay  you  for  your  care  of  him.  In 
fact,  payment  is  imj^ossible.  On  the  contrary, 
every  thing  the  child  does  or  says  is  interesting  to 


106  THE   ORDERED   STEPS. 

you  because  he  is  your  cliild.  Other  children  say 
bright  and  quaint  things,  but  none  of  them  have 
quite  the  flavor  of  those  which  come  from  his 
baby  lips.  And  when  he  begins  to  walk,  you  are 
not  criticising  his  walk  by  the  rules  of  the  dan- 
cing-master ;  you  are  simply  delighted  in  his  way, 
rejoiced  to  see  him  growilig  strong  and  exercising 
his  limbs :  and  so  it  is  all  the  way  up  to  manhood. 
What  he  does  and  says  and  achieves  and  suffers 
has  the  keenest  interest  for  you,  because  he  is  your 
child.  Now,  possibly,  we  find  it  hard  to  transfer 
just  that  feeling  to  God ;  and  yet  that  is  the  true 
view  of  his  feeling  towards  his  children.  A  group 
of  statesmen  engaged  in  the  discussion  of  a  treaty 
would  probably  give  no  thought  to  the  group  of 
children  playing  under  the  windows  of  the  coun- 
cil-chamber, but  God  does  not  look  upon  men  in 
that  way.  From  one  point  of  view  we  might 
justly  think,  that  all  the  "  windy  ways  of  men " 
—  all  their  rushing  up  and  down,  all  their  hot 
pursuit  and  all  the  objects  they  pursue,  all  their 
striving  and  wrangling  —  are  to  God  just  what 
two  newsboys  playing  marbles  are  to  that  banker 
as  he  walks  down  the  street  to  negotiate  a  loan  of 
millions.  And  yet  "  God  so  loved  the  world  that 
he  gave  his  only  begotten  Son."  It  was  to  just  this 
crowd  of  men  and  women,  with  their  little  ambi- 
tions and  their  petty  strivings,  that  he  looked  for 
those  whom  he  should  call  and  justify  and  glorify, 
conforming  them  to  the  image  of  his  Son.  And 
therefore  God  is  interested  in  whatever  concerns 
these  children.     Every  step   of  that  life-problem 


THE  ORDERED  STEPS.  107 

which  you  and  I  are  working  out  is  noted  by  him. 
No  one  has  so  deep  an  interest  in  our  working  it 
out  well.  Each  undertaking,  each  acquisition, 
each  trial,  each  conflict,  each  victory,  —  he  con- 
cerns himself  with  it;  and  your  fatherly  heart 
never  beat  with  more  joy  at  your  babe's  first  step, 
or  your  boy's  first  prize  in  school,  than  does  his  at 
each  step  of  ours  in  the  way  he  has  laid  down : 
every  victory  over  self  and  sin,  every  honest  pur- 
pose formed  in  reliance  on  him,  every  forward 
step  in  self-mastery,  reflects  glory  on  him.  He 
leadeth  his  children  in  the  paths  of  righteousness, 
not  for  their  glory,  but  for  his  name's  sake.  He 
delighteth  in  their  way. 

"  Ah ! "  you  say,  "  I  would  fain  believe  myself  a 
child  of  God.  I  desire  to  please  him,  but  my  way 
is  not  perfect.  It  is  sometimes  little  better  than  a 
series  of  stumbles  and  falls :  and,  instead  of  being 
a  radiant,  strong,  white-robed  son  of  God,  my  gar- 
ments are  soiled  with  the  world's  dust,  and  I  am 
all  bruised  and  scarred ;  and  it  seems  a  cruel  satire 
to  tell  me  that  the  Lord  delighteth  in  my  way." 

Here,  then,  the  third  truth  of  the  text  comes 
in.  Evidently  the  Psalmist  recognizes  mjirmity 
as  an  element  of  the  good  man's  walJc.  There  is  a 
possibility,  more  than  a  possibility,  of  his  falling, 
which  the  text  provides  for:  "Though  he  fall, 
he  shall  not  be  utterly  cast  down:  for  the  Lord 
upholdeth  him  with  his  hand."  We  may  go  back 
again  to  the  illustration  of  the  babe's  first  walk. 
There  is  none  which  better  suits  the  case.  We 
who  call  ourselves  strong  men,  who  seem  to  walk 


108  THE   ORDERED   STEPS. 

SO  firmly  and  securely,  what  is  our  walk,  after  all, 
but  the  tottering  walk  of  little  children?  And 
yet  you  do  not  despise  that  baby's  attempts  at 
walking,  because  he  falls  over  now  and  then.  The 
falls  somehow  are  taken  up  in  the  fact  of  his  walk- 
ing :  they  are  a  part  of  it.  You  do  not  want  him  to 
be  hurt ;  you  are  sorry  for  him  when  he  falls ;  you 
try  to  keep  him  from  falling;  you  take  him  up 
tenderly,  and  dry  his  tears  after  each  fall :  and  yet, 
clumsy,  tearful  performance  though  it  is,  you  de- 
light in  his  way.  You  would  rather  have  him  fall 
a  hundred  times,  —  yes,  and  hurt  himself  too, — 
than  not  have  him  walk  at  all.  Let  us  face  the 
fact  squarely.  There  is  falling  along  the  path  by 
which  God  orders  a  man's  steps.  It  is  not  that 
God  ordains  sin.  He  does  not.  But  the  path 
which  God  ordains  for  a  good  man  lies  through 
this  world :  and  sin  is  in  the  world,  no  matter  why 
or  how ;  and  a  good  man's  walk  with  God  consists 
very  largely  in  a  fight  with  sin.  What  God 
pledges  is  not  that  the  man  shall  escape  all  con- 
tact with  sin  in  his  walk,  not  that  he  shall  not 
feel  the  power  and  bitterness  of  sin,  not  that  he 
shall  walk  to  heaven  a  perfect,  sinless  man  all  the 
way.  The  Psalmist  prays,  "Order  my  steps  in 
thy  word :  and  let  not  any  iniquity  liave  dominion 
over  me  ; "  and,  when  we  turn  from  the  Psalmist 
to  Paul,  we  find  the  answer  to  that  prayer :  "  Sin 
shall  not  have  dominion  over  you,  for  ye  are  not 
under  the  law,  but  under  grace."  The  promise, 
therefore,  does  not  cover  the  figlit  with  sin,  but 
the  victory  of  sin.     Even  the  man  whose  steps  are 


THE   ORDERED   STEPS.  109 

ordered  of  the  Lord  shall  know,  and  know  well, 
the  anguish  of  that  fight;  but,  though  Apollyon 
bring  him  to  the  ground,  he  shall  stretch  forth  his 
hand,  and  grasp  his  sword,  crying,  "  Rejoice  not 
against  me,  O  mine  enemy :  for  when  I  fall,  I  shall 
arise ; "  and,  as  he  goes  on  his  way  scarred  but 
victorious,  he  shall  be  a  living,  walking  testimony 
to  the  truth:  "The  steps  of  a  good  man  are  es- 
tablished by  the  Lord."  Establishment  does  not 
exclude  conflict  or  fall.  It  comes  about  through 
the  successive  conflicts  and  falls  and  risings  again. 
You  and  I  never  have  seen  a  perfect  man,  we 
never  shall  see  one :  we  know  enough  of  men  to 
know  that  those  whom  we  love  best,  and  think 
best,  and  trust  most,  have  their  infirmities  and 
their  errors ;  and  yet  we  are  not  unfamiliar  with 
men  who  are  nobler  than  their  faults.  We  know 
of  something  in  those  men  which  lies  back  of  all 
their  faults,  which  seems  beclouded  now  and  then 
by  the  dust  from  their  fall,  but  which,  after  each 
fall,  rises  up  again  through  a  mist  of  penitent 
tears,  and  asserts  itself  as  the  dominant  power  in 
their  lives.  There  is  something  in  the  deathless 
persistence  of  that  power,  something  in  its  daunt- 
less renewal  of  the  struggle  with  sin  and  self, 
which  makes  us  reverence  that  man  more  than 
one  whose  life  seems  an  even-spun  thread  of  recti- 
tude without  knot  or  tangle.  One  has  said  of 
David  after  his  moral  fall,  "  He  is  not  what  he 
was  before,  but  he  is  far  nobler  and  greater  than 
many  a  just  man  who  never  fell  and  never  re- 
pented."    Let  us  beware  of  thinking  repentance 


110  THE   ORDERED   STEPS. 

a  sentiment  of  a  lower  grade,  or  degrading  to  the 
man  who  drops  its  bitter  tears.  There  is  some- 
thing heroic  in  the  man  who  looks  up  to  God's 
ideal  of  manhood  far,  far  above  him,  and  at  him- 
self, lamed  and  wounded  by  his  fall,  and  says, 
"By  God's  grace  I  will  mount  to  it."  There  is 
something  transparently  honest  and  noble  about 
the  man  who  looks  his  own  shame  and  infirmity 
in  the  face,  and  says  to  God,  "  All  that  thou  say- 
est  of  its  vileness  is  true  to  the  last  word.  Thou 
art  justified  when  thou  speakest,  and  art  clear 
when  thou  judgest."  "  Unbelievers,"  says  Carlyle, 
"  sneer,  and  ask,  '  Is  this  your  man  according  to 
God's  heart  ? '  The  sneer,  I  must  needs  say,  seems 
to  me  but  a  shallow  one.  What  are  faults,  what 
are  the  outward  details  of  a  life,  if  the  inner  secret 
of  it  —  the  remorse,  temptations,  the  often-baffled, 
never-ending  struggle  of  it  —  be  forgotten,  — 
struggle  often  baffled,  sore  baffled,  driven  as  into 
entire  wreck,  yet  a  struggle  never  ended,  ever 
with  tears,  repentance,  true  unconquerable  pur- 
pose begun  anew." 

So  the  steps  of  a  good  man  are  established,  — 
established  in  spite  of  his  fall.  Walking  in  tlie 
way  of  God's  order  brings  with  it  that  strong,  im- 
mortal, unconquerable  principle  which  re-asserts 
itself  after  every  fall,  and  keeps  the  man's  face 
set  toward  God,  and  his  feet  pressing  on  along 
the  heavenward  road.  It  is  a  divine  principle, 
the  very  hand  of  God  stretched  forth  each  time 
in  fulfilment  of  the  promise:  "Though  he  fall, 
he  shall  not  be  utterly  cast  down :  for  the  Lord 
upholdeth  him  with  his  hand." 


THE   ORDERED   STEPS.  Ill 

From  these  truths  we  draw  some  conclusions  of 
great  practical  value :  — 

If  God  has  ordained  a  way  for  men  to  walk  in, 
it  is  the  height  of  folly  to  walk  in  any  other  way. 
If  a  man's  steps  are  established  in  that  way,  they 
must  be  feeble  and  uncertain,  and  ending  in  a  dis- 
astrous fall  in  any  other  way.  If  God  walks  that 
way  with  his  children,  establishing  their  steps,  and 
upholding  them  when  they  fall,  those  who  walk  on 
other  roads,  walk  without  his  help  and  strength, 
and  therefore  walk  in  danger.  Fancied  indepen- 
dence, which  chooses  its  own  road  and  walks  in  its 
own  wisdom,  is  a  poor  compensation  for  the  surety 
and  safety  and  help  vouchsafed  to  him  who  com- 
mits his  way  unto  God. 

If  God,  as  we  have  seen,  orders  our  ways,  step 
by  step,  it  becomes  us  to  take  heed  to  the  details 
of  our  lives.  If  our  acts  and  choices  were  de- 
tached, if  the  significance  of  each  one  began  and 
ended  with  itself,  a  single  step  might  be  less  im- 
portant. But  every  step  is  an  element  of  progress 
in  one  direction  or  the  other.  Every  act,  every 
choice,  is  a  piece  which  fits  into  some  other  piece. 
Every  deed  is  a  link  in  a  chain.  You  shall  go,  and 
stand  beside  yonder  woman  at  her  embroidery, 
and  see  her  putting  in  the  stitches  carelessly,  and 
now  and  then  inserting  a  stitch  of  the  wrong 
color;  and,  on  your  calling  her  attention  to  the 
fact,  she  shall  say,  "No  matter,  the  whole  piece 
will  be  very  beautiful  when  it  is  done."  You 
know  it  will  not,  for  what  is  the  entire  pattern 
but  a  mass  of  single  stitches  ?     The  great  outcome 


112  THE   ORDERED   STEPS. 

of  our  lives  will  be  shaped  by  their  details.  Our 
lives  are  not  what  great  crises  make  them.  They 
are  made  by  those  little  words  and  deeds,  those 
daily  touches,  those  successive  steps. 

If  God  orders  each  detail  of  our  lives,  ought  we 
not  to  get  great  and  solid  comfort  out  of  the  fact  ? 
More  and  more,  as  it  seems  to  me,  his  divine  dis- 
cipline turns  our  eyes  from  the  vague  future  with 
its  uncertain  results,  and  fixes  them  on  to-day's 
duty  and  to-day's  privilege.  We  are  distressing 
ourselves,  it  may  be,  about  the  outcome.  There 
is  no  need,  if  we  follow  God's  rule,  which  confines 
us  to  the  separate  steps.  When  a  traveller  in  the 
Alps  is  ascending  an  ice-slope  where  he  has  to  cut 
steps  as  he  mounts,  he  thinks  of  little  besides  the 
step  he  is  at  that  moment  cutting.  He  has  a  point 
to  reach,  a  space  to  traverse ;  but  all  that  is  lost 
sight  of  in  the  danger  and  difficulty  which  wait  on 
every  step.  He  knows  he  will  escape  destruction 
only  as  each  step  shall  be  rightly  cut,  and  his  foot 
firmly  planted  each  time.  It  is  a  good  deal  so  in 
this  life.  It  is  not  a  safe  journey  by  any  means ; 
but  there  is  this  assurance  for  a  child  of  God  who 
walks  it,  that  each  step  shall  be  sure  if  he  only 
commits  his  way  unto  the  Lord.  And  while  there 
is  not  much  comfort  to  the  man  who  is  cutting  his 
way  up  the  ice,  there  is  a  great  deal  for  the  man 
who  will  accept  this  principle  as  his  rule  in  life, 
and  concern  himself  with  his  single  steps  rather 
than  with  his  life  in  a  mass.  You  say  that  makes 
your  life  fragmentary.  Very  likely.  I  wonder  if 
some  of  us  have  not   to  accept  fragmentariness, 


THE   ORDERED   STEPS.  113 

and  make  the  best  of  it?  You  have  been  balked 
in  many  of  your  plans  ;  and  your  life,  perhaps,  has 
been  a  mere  doing  of  what  came  to  hand ;  and  you 
have  possibly  said,  "  Life  is  an  utter  failure.  It 
would  not  have  been  so  if  I  could  only  have 
carried  out  my  plan."  Perhaps  not.  Perhaps  it 
would  have  been  a  greater  failure  if  you  had  car- 
ried out  your  plan.  Only,  here  is  Christ,  pointing 
down  at  a  little  dead  sparrow,  and  saying,  "  Not 
one  of  them  falleth  to  the  ground  without  your 
heavenly  Father's  notice."  God  looks  after  frag- 
ments, and  works  through  them  to  make  glorious 
units  of  his  own. 

The  separate  steps  !  Sometimes  each  one  seems 
to  sink  into  a  quagmire,  or  to  strike  a  stone.  It 
is  hard  to  walk  on  in  strong  faith  that  they  are 
ordered  by  the  Lord.  The  little  cares  and  vexa- 
tions !  They  seem  to  be  interruptions  to  the  course 
of  the  life.  No  call  for  patience  or  self-control  in 
these.  And  yet  suppose  these  are  the  very  things 
which  go  to  make  up  the  course  of  the  life.  Sup- 
pose you  wake  up  by  and  by  to  find  that  you 
have  cast  away  the  blessing  which  lay  hidden  in 
an  annoyance.  So,  then,  to  conclude,  it  becomes 
us  to  fall  in  with  God's  order,  and  to  attach  to  the 
separate  steps  the  same  importance  that  he  does.  If 
we  do,  we  shall  never  think  slightingly  of  any  act  or 
word.  We  shall  acquire  a  new  sense  of  the  value 
of  each  single  soul,  and  shall  cease  to  view  men  in 
masses.  We  shall  be  led  to  develop  the  resources 
of  single  points  of  effort.  We  shall  find  more  joy 
and  success  in  our  daily  lives,  and  in  our  worries 


114  THE   ORDERED   STEPS. 

and  disappointments,  and  amid  the  temptations  to 
feel  that  we  are  carried  helpless  and  uncared  for 
in  the  mighty  sweep  of  time  and  change,  we  shall 
turn  back  to  the  old  psalm,  and  say,  "  My  steps  are 
ordered  of  the  Lord ;  he  delighteth  in  my  way ; 
he  upholdeth  me  with  his  hand ;  and  if  he  be  for 
me,  who  can  be  against  me  ?  " 


VII. 
FIDELITY   AND   DOMINION. 


VII. 
FIDELITY  AND  DOMINION. 

"His  Lord  said  unto  him,  Well  done,  good  and  faithful  ser- 
vant: thou  hast  been  faithful  over  a  few  things,  I  will  set  thee 
over  many  things :  enter  thou  Into  the  joy  of  thy  Lord."  —  Matt. 
XXV.  21. 

THERE  are  three  great  elements  of  work  in 
tlie  kingdom  of  God,  —  quantity,  quality,  and 
ability.^  Quality  is  a  matter  of  character ;  ability, 
of  endowment ;  quantity,  of  improvement.  When 
we  sit  down  before  an  artist's  picture,  we  con- 
sider his  skill  as  a  draughtsman  and  colorist,  and 
the  power  of  his  mind  to  evolve  ideas.  These 
represent  his  ability.  We  consider  the  character 
of  his  picture,  the  lesson  it  teaches, — whether  it 
awakens  pure  and  high  thoughts,  or  base  and  sen- 
sual ones ;  whether  it  is  true  to  the  great  laws  of 
art.  These  represent  quality.  And  then  we  sum 
up  the  result,  and  ask  how  much  of  a  picture  the 
artist  with  his  degree  of  ability  has  made.  What 
rank  will  it  take  ?  Is  it  a  great  picture,  or  a  poor 
picture  ?     The  answer  to  that  is  quantity. 

How  do  these  three  stand  related  to  each  other 

1  I  am  indebted  in  this  introduction  to  Professor  Alexander  B. 
Bruce's  admirable  work  on  The  Parabolic  Teachim/  of  Christ. 

117 


118  FIDELITY   AND   DOMINION. 

in  Christian  work  and  reward  ?  For  what  is  reward 
given  in  the  kingdom  of  God,  —  for  ability,  quanti- 
ty, or  quality  ?  Here  we  may  profitably  study  this 
familiar  parable  of  the  talents,  in  connection  with 
the  parable  of  the  pounds  in  the  nineteenth  of 
Luke.  These  two  are  not  the  same.  Each  treats 
the  truth  from  a  different  point  of  view.  In  the 
parable  of  the  pounds,  we  are  taught  that  equal 
abihty  implies  equal  quantity,  and  that,  when  abil- 
ity is  equal,  quantity  determines  merit,  and,  there- 
fore, that  unequal  quantity  is  unequally  rewarded. 
The  master  gave  his  ten  servants  a  pound  apiece. 
The  endowment  was  equal,  the  outcome  was 
unequal.  One  returned  ten  pounds  for  his  one; 
another,  only  five  for  his  one.  The  first  received 
authority  over  ten  cities,  and  was,  besides,  addressed 
as  a  good  and  faithful  servant.  The  other  received 
only  five  cities,  and  not  a  word  was  said  about  his 
goodness  or  fidelity. 

Turning  now  to  our  parable  of  the  talents,  we 
find  that  the  endowment,  the  ability,  of  the  several 
servants,  was  not  equal.  It  is  represented  by  the 
difference  between  five,  two,  and  one.  As  in  the 
parable  of  the  pounds,  we  have  a  varied  quantity 
in  the  returns,  represented  by  five,  two,  and  zero. 
But  in  the  award  we  notice  that  the  difference 
between  five  and  two  is  wiped  out  or  ignored; 
and  that  the  same  reward  is  given  to  the  servant 
who  brought  two  for  two,  as  to  him  who  brought 
five  for  five.  Here,  then,  it  appears  that  quantity 
does  not  enter  into  the  question  of  award.  The 
same  award  is   given  for  different  quantities;  so 


FIDELITY  AND   DOMINION.  119 

that  we  need  a  third  factor  in  order  to  determine 
the  principle  of  this  judgment.  That  third  factor 
is  quality,  and  quality  is  fixed  by  the  proportion 
of  quantity  to  ability ;  in  other  words,  by  the 
answer  to  the  question,  Did  the  servant  do  all  he 
could  with  his  endowment  ?  Were  two  talents  all 
the  interest  of  wliich  his  capital  admitted  with  the 
most  faithful  and  diligent  use?  The  award  in 
this  parable,  then,  is  based,  not  on  the  differences 
between  the  returns,  but  upon  the  fact  common  to 
both  returns,  that  ability  had  been  worked  at  its 
highest  power,  and  had  yielded  the  most  and  best 
of  which  it  was  capable  ;  that  both  alike  bore  the 
stamp  of  faithfulness.  To  both  servants  it  is  said, 
"  Thou  hast  been  faithful ; "  to  both,  therefore, 
"  Enter  thou  into  the  joy  of  thy  Lord."  Faithful- 
ness imparts  the  quality  which  answers  God's  test 
of  moral  value ;  and  value  and  award  in  the  king- 
dom of  God  turn  upon  quality,  and  not  upon 
quantity.  Faithfulness  spans  the  differences  of 
ability.  No  difference  of  endowment  can  put  one 
out  of  reach  of  that  test.  It  follows  endowment 
down  to  its  vanishing-point,  and  binds  the  possessor 
of  an  infinitesimal  fraction  of  a  talent  to  raise  his 
fraction  to  the  highest  power  as  stringently  as 
it  binds  the  holder  of  five  or  ten  talents.  The 
servant  with  the  smallest  capital  was  condemned 
simply  because  he  did  not  use  it.  On  the  other 
hand,  endowment  never  rises  out  of  the  atmos- 
phere of  faithfulness.  No  measure  of  ability  ever 
exempts  from  duty.  No  amount  of  brilliancy 
compensates  for  unfaithfulness. 


120  FIDELITY  AND   DOMINION. 

Let  US  now  look  at  a  few  of  the  details  of  the 
parable  which  illustrate  this  principle.  Observe, 
first,  that  all  human  endowment  and  its  largest  re- 
sults are  small,  measured  hy  the  standards  of  God's 
hingdom.  To  the  holder  of  the  five  talents,  as  to 
the  holder  of  the  two,  it  is  said,  "  Thou  hast  been 
faithful  over  a  few  things.""  Human  endowment 
and  human  performance,  the  few  things,  get  their 
significance  from  their  relation  to  the  many  things, 

—  the  great,  thronging  facts  and  principles  and 
laws  of  the  kingdom  of  God.  The  most  persistent 
and  varied  activity  and  the  largest  achievement  of 
the  greatest  man  are  but  small,  in  themselves  con- 
sidered ;  but  they  are  points  where  the  vast  econ- 
omy of  the  kingdom  of  God  —  that  sometliing  which 
is  vaguely  indicated  by  "  many  things,"  "  the  joy 
of  the  Lord," — emerges  into  the  region  of  our 
human  life,  and  touches  it.  That  which  is  out  of 
sight  is  more  and  greater  than  that  which  pushes 
out  into  our  view.  That  point  of  rock  which  rises 
out  of  the  hillside  is,  to  the  geologist,  not  merely  a 
distinct  stone.  It  tells  him  the  dip  and  quality  of 
the  great  strata  under  ground  which  buttress  the 
hills.  Obedience,  responsibility,  duty,  work,  love,- 
trust,  —  all  that  makes  up  Christian  life  here,  — 
are  sides  and  manifestations  of  the  unseen,  spirit- 
ual universe.  Godliness  has  promise,  not  only  of 
the  life  that  now  is,  but  of  that  which  is  to  come, 

—  has  the  promise  which  one  part  of  a  thing  gives 
of  the  other  part.  Godliness  is  a  part  of  the  life 
to  come.  Godliness  is  God  revealing  himself  in 
human  character.     Follow  back  godliness,  and  you 


FIDELITY  AND   DOMINION.  121 

come  to  God.  The  boy  who  is  learning  his  alpha- 
bet is  handling  the  same  elements  which  enter 
into  the  plays  of  Shakspeare  or  the  dialogues  of 
Plato.  He  has  begun  upon  literature  when  he  has 
learned  ABC.  It  is  a  little  thing  in  itself  for 
him  to  learn  twenty-six  letters,  but  it  is  a  very 
great  thing  when  you  consider  the  alphabet  as  the 
medium  of  the  world's  thought.  Even  so,  I  re- 
peat, the  largest  endowment  and  the  largest  result 
are  shown  by  this  utterance  of  Christ  to  be  but  as 
"  a  few  things,"  but  acquiring,  nevertheless,  a  tre- 
mendous and  eternal  importance  as  integral  parts 
of  the  great  moral  economy  of  God.  The  man 
who  is  administering  a  moral  trust,  discharging 
duties,  improving  gifts,  is  within  the  circumfer- 
ence of  that  kingdom  which  spans  eternity  and 
the  universe ;  and  it  is  that  fact  which  gives  mean- 
ing and  value  to  his  few  things. 

This  appears  further  as  we  consider  a  second 
feature  of  the  parable.  Work  and  accomplishment, 
in  themselves,  are  trivial,  because  they  do  not  involve 
mastery.  Look  at  our  Lord's  words :  "  Good  ser- 
vant, thou  hast  been  faithful  over  a  few  things,  I 
will  set  thee  over  many  things."  The  word  is  habit- 
ually used  of  putting  in  a  position  of  authority  or 
mastery.  Good  and  faithful  people  are  constantly 
tempted  to  identify  success  with  accomplishment, 
and  to  think  that  they  fail  because  they  cannot 
do  what  they  set  out  to  do.  But  you  observe  that 
God  gives  no  promise  of  mastery  for  this  world. 
God  is  not  nearly  so  much  concerned  that  you  and 
I  should  accomplish  what  we  purpose  as  that  the 


122  FIDELITY  AND   DOMINION, 

quality  of  our  work  should  be  heavenly.  Hence 
it  is  that  he  sets  upon  true  and  good  work,  not 
the  seal  of  accomplishment,  which  is  a  thing  of  to- 
day, but  the  great  moral  seal  of  the  eternal  heav- 
enly kingdom,  which  is,  faithfulness.  This,  and  not 
accomplishment,  is  what  determines  its  real  value. 
It  is  a  fact  of  observation,  that  good  men  do  not 
always,  nor  perhaps  often,  carry  out  their  plans. 
Often  their  plans  are  larger  than  their  lives ;  often 
their  plans  are  weaker  than  their  circumstances : 
and  these  facts  tend  to  irritate  and  depress  them. 
They  do  not  see  that  these  temporary  failures  may 
lie  on  the  direct  line  of  a  delayed  success.  The 
greatest  success  in  life  is  to  maintain  fidelity,  —  to 
be  faitliful,  though  the  outcome  be  only  a  few 
things.  The  man  who  has  a  great  reform  to  carry 
through,  a  great  truth  to  lodge  in  the  convictions 
of  society,  has  not  necessarily  failed  if  he  die 
with  society  unreformed  and  unconvinced.  He 
has  failed  if  he  has  given  up  trying,  if  he  has  lost 
faith  in  the  truth,  if  he  has  let  down  his  ideal. 
That  is  disastrous  failure.  One  thing  which  we 
are  slow  in  learning  is,  that  the  best  human  work 
is  fractional.  The  divine  whole  is  greater  than 
any  one  man,  or  than  any  one  man's  work.  We 
of  this  age  are  carrying  out  sometliing  which  our 
fathers  left  incomplete,  and  we  in  our  time  shall 
leave  something  for  our  children  to  carry  out. 
"  Other  men  labored,"  saj^s  our  Lord,  "  and  ye 
have  entered  into  their  labors."  Abraham  filled 
his  place  grandly ;  he  was  the  father  of  the  faith- 
ful:  but   the   divine  economy   of  faith  was   not 


FIDELITY  AND   DOMINION.  123 

completed  in  Abraham.  Paul  was  needed  to 
supplement  Abraham,  and  the  saints  of  the  nine- 
teenth century  to  supplement  Paul ;  and  the  men 
of  faith  of  the  twentieth  century  will  supplement 
those  of  the  nineteenth,  and  add  something  to  the 
outcome  of  their  life  and  work.  The  men  of  the 
past,  so  the  Avriter  to  the  Hebrews  tells  us,  "had 
witness  borne  to  them  through  their  faith ; "  but 
he  says  also  that  "  they  received  not  the  promise." 
Faith  did  not  issue  in  full  fruition.  God  "prom- 
ised a  better  thing  for  lis,  that  they  should  not  be 
made  perfect  apart  from  us."  In  other  words,  we 
are  necessary  to  their  perfection.  Their  work, 
their  moral  ideals  are  carried  on  and  developed  by 
us,  and  so  the  development  goes  on  from  century 
to  century.  Therefore,  human  work,  Christian 
work,  does  not  issue  in  mastery  here.  Even  the 
few  things  may  be  too  much  for  the  servant.  The 
mastery  comes  only  by  way  of  reward. 

And  yet  the  parable  very  clearly  shows  us  that 
faithfulness  is  on  the  direct  line  of  mastery :  "  Thou 
hast  been  faithful,  therefore  I  will  make  thee 
rulerT  Fidelity  tends  and  leads  up  to  mastery. 
Success  is  a  thing  of  stages  and  aggregations ; 
and  it  is  of  vastly  more  consequence  that  the 
man  should  be  rightly  pointed,  set  in  the  direc- 
tion of  a  larger,  divine  success,  than  that  he  should 
achieve  what  he  undertakes  here.  If  tliere  is  no  lar- 
ger, purer,  more  spiritual  kingdom  than  this,  there 
is  no  such  thing  as  real  success.  If  there  is  such 
a  kingdom,  and  if  the  earthly  sphere  of  Christian 
life  and  work  is  a  part  of  it,  then  the  success  may 


124  FIDELITY   AND   DOMINION. 

well  lie  beyond  the  line  of  our  human  vision,  and 
be  too  large  for  our  little  inch-rules.  The  great 
principle  holds,  —  fidelity  leads  up  to  mastery. 
You  see  it  illustrated  daily.  You  see  the  faith- 
ful journeyman  advanced  to  the  foremanship,  the 
plodding  student  become  an  authority  :  you  see 
men  of  moderate  ability  becoming  powers  in  busi- 
ness or  in  manufacturing,  by  steady  devotion  to 
one  thing.  The  thing  itself  may  be  small ;  their 
perseverance  magnifies  it:  and  they  themselves 
grow  into  the  ability  to  handle  larger  things 
through  their  fidelity  to  the  smaller  interest. 

We  notice  again,  that  fidelity  to  the  few  things 
carries  with  it  the  promise  of  fidelity  to  the  many : 
"  I  will  set  thee  over  many  tilings."  In  that 
promise,  you  observe,  not  power,  but  confidence, 
is  emphasized.  The  idea  of  a  trust  is  carried  up 
from  the  lower  to  the  higher  plane.  Delegated 
authority  is  a  trust  no  less  than  delegated  duty. 
All  through  the  New  Testament,  Christ  insists 
that  endowment  means,  first  of  all,  responsibility. 
Rule  is  trust.  The  man  who  cannot  be  trusted 
is  the  man  who  must  not  rule. 

Now,  the  popular  idea  is,  that  moral  responsi- 
bility is  concerned  mostly  with  great  thmgs.  But 
keep  in  mind  the  truth  we  have  been  illustrating, 
and  which  lies  at  the  root  of  this  parable,  —  that  all 
human  action  gets  its  quality  and  meaning  from 
its  relation  to  the  kingdom  of  God.  From  this 
point  of  view  no  act  is  insignificant,  no  neglect 
safe,  no  violation  of  trust  trivial.  Christ  strikes 
at   the   root   of   the  popular  error.     Fidelity  has 


FIDELITY   AND   DOMINION.  125 

nothing  whatever  to  do  with  the  magnitude  of  the 
trust.  That  truth  is  written  in  black  lines  on  the 
moral  history  of  humanity.  The  story  of  Eden, 
whatever  else  it  may  teach,  asserts  God's  insistence 
on  fidelity  to  a  small  trust.  The  conditions  im- 
posed on  our  first  parents  were  not  complicated 
nor  burdensome :  they  were  but  to  let  one  tree 
alone.  That  simple  condition  they  did  not  meet. 
Put  in  trust  with  the  tree  of  knowledge,  they 
betrayed  their  trust;  and  is  it  too  much  to  say 
that  the  loyalty  which  could  not  bear  so  small  a 
strain  was  a  feeble  sentiment  ?  that  this  little  act 
of  eating  a  fruit  showed  the  man's  unfitness  for  a 
dominion  founded  in  loyalty  to  God  quite  as  deci- 
sively as  a  greater  and  noisier  act  would  have  done  ? 
Let  us  beware  of  flattering  ourselves  that  we  will 
be  loyal  to  God  in  great  issues,  even  though  we  may 
not  be  in  smaller  ones.  The  moral  quality  which 
determines  the  smaller  issue  will  determine  the 
greater  one.  Our  Lord  leaves  us  in  no  doubt  on 
this  point :  "  He  that  is  faithful  in  a  very  little  is 
faithful  also  in  much  :  and  he  that  is  unrighteous 
in  a  very  little  is  unrighteous  also  in  much ; "  and 
that  is  the  principle  which  you  frankly  accept  in 
your  dealings  with  men.  Unfaithfulness  in  the 
smallest  work,  in  the  lowest  sphere,  is  no  recom- 
mendation for  promotion.  You  do  not  choose  for 
foreman  of  your  establishment  the  man  who  has 
been  doing  slovenly  work  in  a  lower  place.  If 
your  clerk  has  stolen  a  dime,  you  will  not  make 
him  your  cashier.  It  is  not  a  question  of  quantity, 
but  of  quality.     You  do  not  consider  hoiv  much  he 


126  FIDELITY   AND   DOMINION. 

stole,  but  that  he  stole.  It  is  quite  enough  for  you 
to  know  that  he  will  steal,  and  the  dime  brings 
out  the  fact  quite  as  well  as  a  thousand  dollars. 
In  the  kingdom  of  God,  nothing  is  small,  nothing 
is  insignificant.  The  few  things  take  their  char- 
acter from  the  many  things ;  the  talents  are  of 
a  piece  with  the  joy  of  the  Lord ;  the  pounds 
and  the  cities  are  under  one  economy.  If  the 
joy  and  the  cities  are  great  and  significant  things, 
they  make  the  single  talents  great  and  signifi- 
cant. 

We  cannot  insist  too  much  on  the  truth  that  no 
act  or  thought  of  ours  stands  by  itself.  We  say, 
"  This  is  a  little  transgression,  or  a  little  omission ; " 
but  we  forget  how  the  thing  may  be  magnified  b}' 
its  connections.  The  handle  of  the  throttle-valve 
on  that  locomotive  is  a  small  piece  of  iron,  much 
smaller  than  the  pistons  or  the  driving-wheels ; 
and  that  reckless  lad  climbing  upon  the  engine 
might  say,  "  This  piece  of  iron  is  so  small  that  it 
will  not  matter  if  I  pull  it ;  "  but,  at  the  first  touch, 
the  steam  hisses,  and  the  wheels  begin  to  revolve, 
and  he  is  carried  helplessly  down  the  track.  Our 
contact  in  this  world  is  not  with  whole  things. - 
We  touch  extremities,  or  sides  of  them ;  and  how 
far  back  the  things  themselves  run,  how  many 
branchings  and  connections  they  have,  we  do  not 
and  can  not  know.  The  neglect  or  the  fault  which 
we  call  little  may  be  as  the  end  of  a  slow  match 
connecting  with  a  magazine.  No  matter  how 
little,  how  few,  the  things  we  have  to  deal  with, 
fidelity  is  the  only  insurance. 


FIDELITY   AND    DOMINION,  127 

Hence,  the  Bible  emphasizes  small  trusts.  The 
tragedy  of  this  parable,  and  a  terrible  one  it  is, 
centres  in  the  servant  who  had  but  one  talent. 
The  smaller  your  trust,  the  less  your  ability,  the 
greater  is  the  call  for  care  and  watchfulness,  be- 
cause a  peculiar  temptation  attaches  to  small 
endowment.^  There  is  not  even  a  plausible  excuse 
for  neglecting  a  great  trust ;  but  it  is  one  of  the 
commonest  of  things  for  people  to  neglect  their 
gifts,  and  let  them  run  to  waste  because  they  are 
small.  You  notice,  that,  in  the  parable,  the  man 
with  the  one  talent  is  the  only  one  of  the  three 
who  is  represented  as  under  temptation  to  neglect. 
If  your  boy  has  a  present  of  ten  dollars,  he  is  easily 
persuaded  to  put  it  by  as  the  nucleus  of  a  hundred. 
It  is  not  hard  for  him  to  see  that  it  is  a  good  piece 
of  a  hundred.  But  if  he  has  a  quarter  of  a  dollar, 
he  will  say,  "  I  may  as  well  spend  that."  He  does 
not  see  that  the  quarter  is  part  of  the  hundred  as 
well  as  the  ten.  The  quarter  has  just  as  real  and 
definite  a  relation  to  the  hundred  as  the  ten.  Even 
so,  the  commonplace  man,  the  man  who  thinks  he 
does  not  count,  the  small  talent,  the  scant  power 
to  speak  or  act  or  plan,  —  have  just  as  real  and 
just  as  definite  a  relation  to  the  great  economy  of 
the  kingdom  of  God  as  the  most  brilliant  array 
of  gifts.  That  fact  of  itself  settles  the  question  of 
duty.  That  fact  of  itself  enjoms  faitlifulness.  That 
fact  of  itself  justifies  God  in  rebuking  and  punish- 
ing the  servant  who  hides  his  single  talent  in  a 

1  See  Drummoud's  Natural  Law  in  the  Spiritual  World. 


128  FIDELITY  AND   DOMINION. 

napkin.  It  has  been  well  said,  that,  "  It  is  just  the 
men  whose  capital  seems  small  who  need  to  choose 
the  best  investment.  It  is  those  who  belong  to 
the  rank  and  file  of  life  who  need  this  warning 
most." 

Once  more,  observe  that  the  parahle  fixes  our 
attention  less  upon  the  work  than  upon  the  worker ; 
or,  perhaps  we  might  better  say,  upon  the  work 
through  the  worker.  As  we  have  said,  the  lesson 
turns  on  the  question  of  quality;  and  the  qual- 
ity, faithfulness,  is  imparted  by  the  servant.  The 
satisfaction  of  the  master  lies,  not  in  the  fact 
that  his  five  talents  have  grown  into  ten,  but 
in  that  the  increase  is  due  to  his  servant's  faith- 
fulness. In  God's  eyes,  the  best  and  highest 
result  of  work  is  a  good  worker.  I  think,  that, 
in  our  ordinary  interpretations  of  this  parable, 
we  are  in  some  danger  of  overlooking  this,  and 
of  laying  the  emphasis  on  the  development  of 
poiver  rather  than  on  the  development  of  char- 
acter. We  say,  "The  servant  made  the  best  of 
his  power,  and  the  result  was  correspondingl}' 
large."  We  draw  the  practical  lesson,  "  The  more 
faithfully  you  use  your  talents,  the  more  you  will 
accomplish."  We  perhaps  tend  to  forget  that  it 
is  the  moral  quality  of  the  user  that  gives  char- 
acter to  the  result ;  that  a  smaller  result,  as  the 
outcome  of  faithfulness,  is  more  in  God's  eyes 
than  a  larger  one  without  it ;  that  to  God  there 
is  no  large  result,  no  good  result,  without  faitliful- 
ness ;  that  God  demands  interest  on  character  no 
less  than  on    endowment,    and  that   interest  on 


FIDELITY   AND   DOMINION.  129 

endowment  counts  for  nothing  without  interest  on 
character ;  that  quality  fixes  the  rate  of  interest 
on  quantity.  We  may  go  into  the  other  world 
with  the  reputation  of  great  or  brilliant  or  efficient 
men.  It  will  count  for  nothing  if  we  are  not  also 
^ood  men.  But  it  is  also  true  that  the  servant's 
liithfulness  sets  its  own  mark  upon  his  work,  and 
gives  all  results  a  new  and  higher  character.  An 
engineer  puts  some  pounds  of  dynamite  into  a 
mountain,  and  blasts  open  a  tunnel.  It  is  a  great 
result,  but  it  is  a  mere  material  result.  We  all 
know  Avhat  dynamite  can  do,  and  we  think  only  of 
a  powerful  material  agent  overcoming  a  given 
resistance.  But,  when  a  Washington  has  con- 
quered freedom  for  his  country,  it  is  more  than  a 
matter  of  cannon  and  musketry.  It  is  a  matter 
of  moral  ideas,  of  holy  passion  and  patriotism 
and  self-devotion  and  fidelity  to  a  few  things, 
and  courage  and  loyalty  —  all  set  their  mark  upon 
armies  and  battles  and  munitions  and  glorify 
them.  These  fearful  material  forces,  with  their 
ghastly  results,  are  lifted  into  the  moral  sphere. 
In  the  library  of  a  well-known  gentleman  of  wealth 
and  culture  and  large  social  influence,  might  be 
seen,  enclosed  in  a  glass  case,  a  common  brick.  It 
told  the  story  of  his  first  step  in  life.  He  was  a 
journeyman  bricklayer,  and  that  was  the  first 
brick  he  ever  laid;  and,  from  the  eminence  of  his 
fame  and  fortune,  he  had  gone  back  to  the  old 
house  where  he  began  his  career  of  faithful  indus- 
try, and  had  brought  back  its  first  result.  Only 
an  ordinary  brick,  like  millions  of  others :  but  you 


130  FIDELITY   AND   DOMINION. 

do  not  need  to  be  told  what  it  was  that  made  it 
more  than  a  common  mass  of  clay,  that  made  it  a 
symbol  of  faithfulness;  that  took  that  common- 
place thing,  and  brought  it  into  harmony  with  all 
that  environment  of  culture  and  refinement  and 
religion,  and  made  it  seem  not  out  of  place  in  the 
company  of  books  and  pictures  and  statues,  and 
that  linked  it  with  an  honorable  manhood  spent  in 
the  service  of  God  and  humanity.  Faithfulness 
brings  out  strange  relationships  between  things 
apparently  most  remote,  between  the  material  and 
the  spiritual,  between  the  few  things  and  the  joy 
of  the  Lord.     Faithfulness  alone  glorifies  power. 

Thus,  this  parable  turns  on  moral  quality  rather 
than  on  ability.  Its  keynote  is  not  five  talents, 
nor  two  talents,  nor  one  talent,  but  faithfulness  to 
all  three.  It  is  faithfulness,  and  not  amount,  which 
links  the  talent  to  the  joy  of  the  Lord,  the  few 
things  to  the  many.  The  amount  of  ability  is  not 
the  first  thing  for  you  and  me  to  consider :  it  is 
the  faithful  use  of  whatever  ability  we  have.  To 
use  aright,  we  must  he  right.  Vigorous  use  of 
talent  is  not  necessarily  right  use,  for  unfaithful- 
ness is  vigorous  also.  Whatever  legitimate  joy 
shall  ever  come  to  a  servant  from  his  talents,  will 
come  through  the  Master's  word :  "  Well  done,  good 
and  faithful  servant,"  Beware  of  despising  any 
talent,  however  small.  It  comes  to  you  out  of 
heaven.  It  is  God's  trust  to  you.  It  is  linked 
with  the  great  economy  of  the  kingdom  of  God  by 
lines  which  your  eye  cannot  follow.  You  cannot 
prophesy  a  small  result  from  its  neglect  on  the 


FIDELITY   AND  DOMINION.  131 

ground  that  it  is  a  small  talent.  God  turns  you 
persistently  away  from  the  question  of  quantity 
or  amount,  and  fastens  your  eyes  on  one  para- 
mount fact  —  faithfulness.  You  have  but  a  few 
things,  but  one  talent ;  none  the  less  he  says,  "  Be 
faithful."  You  will  do  well  to  study  the  fate  of 
him  who  neglected  his  single  talent. 

I  am  reminded  of  more  than  one  illustration  of 
faithful  service  and  inherited  joy  as  I  call  up  the 
faces  which  have  vanished  from  these  familiar 
scenes  of  worship,  and  especially  this  morning,  as 
my  eye  rests  on  yonder  beautiful  memorial  of  a 
beautiful  and  faithful  life,^  the  gift  of  bereaved 
love  to  this  church,  which  shared  so  largely  in  the 
rich  ministries  of  that  life.  The  life  itself,  it  is 
true,  needs  no  visible  reminder  to  perpetuate  its 
power  and  memory.  It  has  left  its  abiding  record 
and  its  abiding  influence  in  your  hearts  and  on 
your  church-work.  It  glows  there  with  richer  hues 
than  those  through  which  God's  sunlight  streams 
to-day  ;  but  none  the  less  the  memorial  will  serve 
tlu'ough  many  coming  years  to  point  the  lesson  of 
to-day,  as  the  sunlight  shall  bring  out  the  name  of 
a  good  and  faithful  servant,  who,  through  simple 
faithfulness,  brought  full  interest  out  of  large  en- 
dowment, and,  having  laid  it  all  at  the  foot  of  the 
cross,  entered  into  the  joy  of  her  Lord. 

1  A  memorial  window  placed  on  the  north  side  of  the  Church 
of  the  Covenant  to  the  memory  of  Mrs.  Nancy  McKeen  Lewis 
by  her  husband,  Dr.  Charlton  T.  Lewis. 


VIII. 
EXTRA   SERVICE. 


VIII. 
EXTRA  SERVICE. 

"  But  who  is  there  of  yon  having  a  servant  ploughing  or  keep- 
ing sheep,  that  will  say  unto  him,  when  he  is  come  in  from  the 
field,  Come  straightway  and  sit  down  to  meat  ;  and  will  not 
rather  say  unto  him.  Make  ready  wherewith  I  may  sup,  and 
gird  thyself,  and  serve  me,  till  I  have  eaten  and  drunken  ;  and 
afterward  thou  shalt  eat  and  drink  ?  Doth  he  thank  the  ser- 
vant because  he  did  the  things  that  were  commanded  ?  Even 
so  ye  also,  when  ye  shall  have  done  all  the  things  that  are  com- 
manded you,  say,  We  are  unprofitable  servants  ;  we  have  done 
that  which  it  was  our  duty  to  do."  —  Luke  xvii.  7-10. 

ARE  these  indeed  the  words  of  Him  who  said, 
"  Henceforth  I  call  you  not  servants,  but 
friends  "  ?  This  is  a  picture  of  a  hard,  unlovely 
side  of  life,  —  a  slave's  life  and  a  slave's  service, 
without  thanks  or  claim  for  thanks.  A  slave  has 
been  ploughing  or  keeping  sheep  all  day.  He  has 
done  his  full  day's  work,  and  is  tired  and  hungry ; 
but,  when  he  comes  back  to  the  house,  he  finds  that 
his  work  is  not  done  yet.  He  cannot  sit  down,  and 
refresh  himself :  he  must  wait  upon  the  master  at 
his  meal  first.  After  that  he  may  sit  down.  Does 
the  master  give  him  any  thanks  for  his  service  at  the 
table  —  his  extra  service  above  his  day's  ploughing 
or  shepherding?  Not  so,  indeed,  says  our  Lord. 
The  slave  is  his  own;  he  has  a  right  to  his  ser- 

135 


136  EXTRA   SERVICE. 

vice  anywhere  and  everywhere,  in  hours  or  out  of 
hours.  Even  so,  he  continues,  when  ye,  servants 
of  God,  have  done  all  that  is  commanded  you, 
say,  "  We  are  unprofitable  servants ;  we  have  only 
done  our  duty;  we  have  no  title  to  thanks  or 
reward,  no  matter  how  hard  we  work." 

We  ask,  I  repeat,  and  not  unnaturally,  where 
such  a  representation  of  Christian  service  fits  into 
that  sweet  and  attractive  ideal  which  Christ  else- 
where gives  us  under  the  figure  of  the  family  rela- 
tion, —  sons  of  God,  confidential  friends  of  Christ. 
Does  this  picture  of  slavish  service,  hard  duty,  and 
no  thanks  belong  to  these  ? 

We  hasten  to  say,  No  ;  but  it  will  require  a  little 
study  to  discover  why  we  may  say  no,  and  to  fix 
the  place  of  this  parable  in  relation  to  others  of  a 
happier  tone. 

In  the  first  place,  you  observe  that  it  is  not  un- 
usual for  our  Lord  to  draw  a  disagreeable  picture 
in  order  to  set  forth  his  own  love  and  grace.  What 
a  type  of  hard,  selfish  cruelty  is  that  unjust  judge, 
for  example  :  "  I  will  hear  the  widow,  in  order  to 
be  rid  of  her.  I  will  do  what  she  asks  me  because 
she  troubles  me,  and  for  fear  that  she  may  weary 
me  to  death."  Is  this  like  God  ?  No.  If  the  un- 
just judge  can  be  moved  by  earnest  and  persistent 
appeal,  shall  not  the  just  God  be  moved  by  the  cry 
of  his  own  chosen  ones  ?  Or,  to  take  another  case, 
is  God  like  the  churlish  man  who  refuses  to  give 
his  neighbor  bread  because  the  door  is  shut,  and 
he  is  in  bed  ?  Nay,  if  the  churlish  neighbor  will 
yield  to  importunity,  and  rise,  and  give  his  friend 


EXTRA  SERVICE.  137 

as  many  loaves  as  he  needs,  will  not  God  honor  the 
importunate  faith  which  besieges  his  doors,  even 
though,  to  test  it,  he  delays  for  a  while  ?  His  delay 
is  only  the  prelude  to  his  rising,  and  giving  like  a 
God. 

We  must  not  be  repelled  by  a  figure,  therefore. 
But,  then,  there  are  the  words,  "  even  so  ye  also," 
which  compel  us  to  recognize  in  this  parable  some 
features  of  our  relation  to  God.  The  parable  does 
not  say  that  God  deals  with  his  servants  as  a  mas- 
ter does  with  a  slave,  yet  it  may  nevertheless  ex- 
press some  facts  and  conditions  of  Christian  service. 
Let  us  try  to  see  what  these  are. 

The  parable  answers  to  the  fact  in  being  a  pic- 
ture of  hard  work,  and  of  what  we  call  extra  work. 
The  servant  is  all  day  at  the  plough  or  in  the  pas- 
ture, and  after  a  full  day's  work  has  the  extra  duty 
of  serving  at  table,  without  regard  to  his  own 
hunger  or  weariness.  The  service  of  God's  king- 
dom is  laborious  service,  —  service  crowded  with 
work  and  burdens.  Christ  nowhere  represents  it 
as  easy.  When  Christ  says  his  yoke  is  easy,  he 
does  not  mean  that  there  is  no  pressure  from  it, 
and  that  it  is  borne  without  labor.  The  word 
"  easy  "  is,  rather,  "  good,"  "  wholesome,"  "  profit- 
able." Daily  experience  shows  us  that  the  high- 
est Christian  service  involves  the  most  labor,  and 
it  also  reveals  that  feature  of  Christian  service  to 
which  this  parable  calls  our  attention,  —  the  ele- 
ment of  extra  service,  service  not  limited  by  times 
and  measures.  Its  calls  come  at  all  times.  The 
master   appears  at   midnight,  at   morning,    or   at 


138  EXTRA   SERVICE. 

cockcrow.  The  servant  is  to  be  always  ready, 
with  his  loins  girded.  No  Christian  can  shut  him- 
self up  to  a  little  routine  of  duty,  and  say,  I  will 
do  so  much,  witliin  such  times,  and  no  more. 
When  a  flower  stands  out  in  the  open  field,  with 
its  great  rich  petals  outspread  to  the  sun,  it  is  not 
visited  only  by  certain  bees  which  come  at  stated 
hours  to  suck  its  sweetness.  These  come,  indeed, 
and  fly  away  loaded  with  sweets  ;  but  the  dragon- 
fly wheels  round  it  with  his  gauzy  wings,  the 
humming-bird  thrusts  his  beak  into  its  crimson 
cup,  the  spider  fastens  his  web  on  the  stalk,  and 
swarms  of  busy  flies  light  upon  the  petals.  Its 
perfume  and  its  honey  are  common  property.  So, 
when  a  Christian  stands  in  the  field  of  Chi-istian 
service,  his  heart  open  to  God's  call,  his  life  dis- 
tilling the  perfume  of  holy  love,  he  cannot  keep 
his  services  upon  one  line  or  within  certain  times. 
Demands  for  ministry  swarm  over  the  lines  he  may 
have  drawn  ;  outstretched  hands  are  thrust  forth 
from  unsuspected  corners  ;  voices  arise  from  places 
given  over  to  silence  ;  his  hands  are  always  full. 
If  he  begins  with  a  scheme  of  duties  and  times,  the 
feeble  hands  of  sickness  and  want  will  throw  liis 
scheme  into  confusion,  or  keep  him  constantly  en- 
larging it.  Take  the  life  of  Paul,  and  see  if  you 
can  compress  it  within  any  lines  of  routine,  or 
measure  out  its  labors,  so  much  per  day,  or  its  rest, 
so  many  hours  out  of  the  twenty-four.  Or  look 
at  the  life  of  our  Lord,  how  it  abounds  in  this  ele- 
ment of  work  out  of  season !  It  was  the  hour  of 
rest  when  he  sat  at  Jacob's  well,  and  we  are  ex- 


EXTRA   SERVICE.  139 

pressly  told  that  he  was  weary;  yet  with  wliai 
ardor  he  threw  himself  into  the  interview  with  the 
Samaritan  woman.  So,  when  from  sheer  exhaus- 
tion he  had  fallen  asleep  in  the  fishers'  boat,  he 
must  rise  at  the  call  of  the  frightened  disciples, 
and  quiet  the  sea  and  their  terror.  If  he  went 
across  the  lake  to  seek  for  rest,  the  multitude  took 
shipping,  and  followed  him.  When  evening  fell, 
he  must  feed  the  five  thousand  to  whom  he  had 
been  speaking.  Wherever  he  walks,  some  man  or 
woman  with  a  sick  child  beseeches  his  aid,  some 
blind  man  or  cripple  cries,  "  Have  mercy  on  me  ! " 
if  he  sits  at  meat,  some  outcast  comes,  and  appeals 
to  his  pity. 

And  this  is  not  peculiar  to  Christian  service.  It 
is  a  law  of  all  work  of  a  higher  type,  that  it  over- 
steps mere  methodical  limits.  It  is  only  work  of 
a  mechanical  kind  that  is  confined  to  specific  times 
and  prescribed  duties.  The  nearer  you  get  to 
machine  work,  the  more  tliis  characteristic  asserts 
itself.  The  machine  turns  round  just  so  many 
times  in  a  minute  ;  a  cog  raises  a  lever  just  so  often : 
there  are  no  surprises  about  a  steam-engine  or  a 
mowing-machine  ;  we  know  exactly  what  they  can 
do  in  a  given  time :  and,  the  lower  the  type  of 
work,  the  more  of  the  machine  character  it  takes 
on  —  so  many  hours  for  so  much ;  just  such  a  re- 
sult for  so  many  pounds  of  steam.  You  often  hear 
it  said  of  this  or  that  man,  "  he  is  a  mere  machine  : 
he  simply  obeys  specific  orders  at  given  times." 
The  man  who  makes  the  fires  and  sweeps  the  office 
of  that  statesman  comes  at  a  certain  hour  in  the 


140  *  EXTRA  SERVICE. 

morning,  does  his  round  of  duties,  and  goes  away ; 
comes  again  at  a  given  houi',  feeds  the  fires,  and 
goes  away  again.  Nothing  more  is  asked  or  expect- 
ed of  him.  There  is  nothing  in  hun  or  in  his  work 
which  carries  it  over  these  lines ;  but  the  states- 
man cannot  work  in  that  way.  To-day  a  consulta- 
tion breaks  into  his  routine,  a  state  paper  keeps 
him  at  his  desk  until  far  into  the  night ;  to-morrow 
a  cabinet-meeting  or  a  debate  takes  out  a  great 
piece  of  his  time.  I  have  heard  a  man  in  this  city 
remark,  that,  if  his  regular  routine  work  —  which 
most  people  would  think  quite  enough  —  were  all 
he  had  to  do,  he  should  feel  quite  like  a  man  of 
leisure.  The  outside  irregular  work  had  assumed 
such  proportions  as  almost  to  dwarf  the  regular 
duties.  So  long  as  a  man's  work  is  merely  the 
carrying  out  of  another's  orders,  it  will  tend  to  be 
mechanical  and  methodical:  but  the  moment  the 
man  becomes  identified  in  spirit  with  his  work ;  the 
moment  the  work  becomes  the  evolution  of  an  idea, 
the  expression  of  a  definite  and  cherished  purpose ; 
the  moment  it  becomes  the  instrument  of  individ- 
ual will,  sympathy,  affection ;  above  aU,  the  moment 
it  takes  on  the  character  of  a  passion  or  an  enthusi- 
asm,— that  moment  it  overleaps  mechanical  tram- 
mels. The  lawyer  is  not  counting  the  number  of 
hours  which  duty  compels  him  to  work.  He  would 
make  each  day  forty-eight  hours  long  if  he  could. 
He  has  a  case  to  gain,  and  that  is  all  he  thinks 
of.  The  physician  who  should  refuse  to  answer  a 
summons  from  his  bed  at  the  dead  of  night,  or  to 
visit  a  patient  after  a  certain  hour   of  the   day, 


EXTRA  SERVICE.  141 

would  soon  have  abundance  of  leisure.  Pain  will 
not  measure  its  intervals  by  the  clock,  fever  will 
not  suspend  its  burning  heats  to  give  the  weary 
watcher  rest:  the  affliction  of  the  fatherless  and 
widow  knocks  at  the  doors  of  pure  and  undefiled 
religion  at  untimely  hours.  Times  and  seasons,  in 
short,  must  be  swallowed  up  in  the  purpose  of 
saving  life  and  relieving  misery. 

I  need  not  carry  the  illustrations  farther.  You 
see  that  the  lower  a  type  of  service,  the  more 
mechanical  and  methodical  it  is;  and  that  the 
higher  types  of  service  develop  a  certain  exuber- 
ance, and  refuse  to  be  limited  by  times  and  sea- 
sons. 

A  second  point  at  which  the  fact  answers  to  the 
parable,  is  the  matter  of  wages ;  that  is  to  say,  the 
slave  and  the  servant  of  Christ  have  neither  of 
them  any  right  to  thanks  or  compensation.  What 
God  may  do  for  his  servants  out  of  his  own  free 
grace  and  love,  what  privileges  he  may  grant  his 
friends,  is  another  question  ;  but,  on  the  hard  husi- 
ness  basis  of  value  received,  the  servant  of  God 
has  no  case.  What  he  does  in  God's  service  it  is 
his  duty  to  do.  The  Romish  doctrine  of  works  of 
supererogation  —  special  services  or  sacrifices  mer- 
iting special  compensation  —  has  no  warrant  in 
Scripture.  The  man's  largest  services,  those  which 
take  most  from  his  legitimate  leisure  and  rest,  go 
into  the  general  reckoning  as  duty.  In  reading 
the  parable,  put  the  emphasis  on  the  word  servants. 
We  are  unprofitable  servants.  As  servants  we  can 
render  no  service  that  is  not  due.     In  the  eleventh 


142  EXTRA  SERVICE. 

of  Romans  we  read,  "  who  hath  first  given  to  him 
(God),  and  it  shall  be  recompensed  unto  him 
again  ?  "  "  God,"  as  Bengel  remarks,  "  can  do  with- 
out our  usefulness."  God  has  no  necessary  men. 
"•  Doth  he  thank  the  servant  because  he  did  the 
things  that  were  commanded  ?  I  trow  not.  Even 
so  ye  also,  when  ye  shall  have  done  all  the  things 
that  are  commanded  you,  say,  We  are  unprofitable 
servants ;  we  have  done  that  which  it  was  our  duty 
to  do." 

Now,  then,  we  reach  the  pith  of  the  parable.  It 
is  spoken  from  the  slave's  point  of  view,  it  deals 
with  service  of  the  lower,  mechanical  type ;  and 
you  find  the  key  to  it  in  the  master's  command  to 
the  slave  to  do  an  additional  service  at  his  table, 
after  he  has  already  completed  a  full  day's  work. 
Our  Lord  treats  the  subject  from  this  lower  point 
of  view,  that  he  may  warn  us  away  from  that  tj-pe 
of  service,  and  direct  us  to  a  nobler  one,  in  which 
that  which  appears  to  the  slave  as  extra  service 
ceases  to  be  regarded  as  such,  and  is  taken  cheer- 
fully into  the  larger  and  more  generous  conception 
of  duty  as  part  and  parcel  of  it.  It  is  only  the 
servile,  mechanical  worker,  in  other  words,  to 
whom  extra  service  has  any  existence.  In  Christ's 
real  friends,  the  desire  for  service  outruns  the  abil- 
ity. Just  as  the  lawyer  and  doctor  regard  their 
unexpected  calls  and  the  infringements  on  their 
hours  of  refreshment  or  rest  as  features  of 
their  work,  never  thinking  of  them  as  imposi- 
tions or  extra  burdens ;  so  the  Christian's  high- 
est conception  of   service    includes    all  the  calls 


EXTRA  SERVICE.  143 

to  the  ministry  which  lies  outside  any  scheme  of 
labor  and  rest.  This  exuberance  of  work,  this 
constant  "  finding  of  the  hand "  interjected  into 
the  daily  routine,  this  working  "double  tides," 
this  bearing  another's  and  yet  another's  burden 
beside  his  own,  —  all  fall  under  the  accepted  law 
of  his  life.  To  a  man  who  accepts  this  view  of 
Christian  service,  the  parable  is  not  addressed.  It 
has  no  application  to  him.  He  is  working  on  a 
different  and  a  higher  basis.  The  point  of  impulse 
is  shifted  from  a  mere  schedule  of  duties  to  his 
own  sympathy  with  Christ's  purposes.  Behind 
service  is  the  trust  of  a  masterful  enthusiasm,  and 
not  the  stricture  of  a  time-table.  Overflow  is  its 
law.  Service  on  the  lower  plane  of  our  parable  is 
like  that  waterfall  in  the  Catskills,  shut  in  by  a 
floodgate,  and  made  to  play  to  order.  It  is  a  thing 
of  regulated  quantities  and  intervals.  Service  on 
the  higher  plane  is  like  Niagara,  with  the  pressure 
of  deep,  exhaustless  Erie  crowding  it  onward  with- 
out rest.  It  cuts  tracks  for  itself,  it  spreads  out 
round  the  green  islands,  it  boils  through  the  nar- 
row canals,  it  leaps  and  races  in  rapids  towards 
the  final  plunge,  and  its  mist  and  thunder  arise 
forever.  You  might  as  well  attempt  to  concen- 
trate Niagara  upon  a  single  millwheel  as  to  keep 
the  Christ-like  impulse  to  service  within  the  lines 
of  mechanical  routine,  and  of  stated  times  and 
seasons.  That  service  is  as  exuberant  and  varied 
as  it  is  constant.  No  jealous  floodgates  shut  down 
between  it  and  opportunity.  Christ's  friend  does 
not  fence  off  from  the  claims  of  service  a  section 


144  EXTRA  SERVICE. 

of  rights  to  rest  and  leisure.  He  would  as  soon 
think  of  forbidding  his  neighbor  to  enter  his  own 
house  or  orchard.  He  is  not  his  own ;  his  heritage 
is  not  his ;  his  life  is  a  practical  assent  to  the  truth 
which  Paul  so  forcibly  puts  to  the  Corinthians : 
"  Ye  are  God's  tilled  land :  ye  are  God's  building." 
And  therefore  God's  claims  have  the  free  and  full 
range  of  his  time  and  of  his  powers. 

I  would  that  there  were  more  of  this  rich,  spon- 
taneous overflow  in  the  Christian  life  of  to-day. 
We  may  not  look  for  the  luxuriance  of  the  South- 
American  forest  under  our  colder  skies.  Our  trees 
and  shrubs  are  cleaner  in  outline  and  less  lavish  in 
foliage  and  flower ;  but  our  piety  need  not  be  sub- 
ject to  any  such  physical  law.  The  sun  of  right- 
eousness does  not  shine  obliquely  on  any  part  of 
God's  heritage,  and  we  might  well  have  more  trop- 
ical exuberance  in  our  religious  life.  I  know  that 
enthusiasm,  is  not  necessarily  boisterous  or  demon- 
strative. The  deepest  enthusiasm,  like  deep  water, 
is  often  the  stillest.  But  when  a  man  is  full  of 
true  enthusiasm,  it  will  out,  though  he  seldom  open 
his  lips.  I  remember  that  they  used  to  have  in 
houses  what  they  called  an  air-tight  stove.  It  was 
shut  up  on  all  sides.  You  could  not  see  a  spark 
of  fire,  but  you  felt  it.  It  was  all  tln-ough  the 
atmosphere  of  the  room.  If  you  touched  it,  you 
found  there  was  fire  in  it;  and  once  in  a  while 
it  would  get  red-hot,  and  show  fire.  If  there  is 
fire,  G-od^s  fire,  in  a  man's  soul,  it  may  not  sparkle 
nor  roar,  but  it  will  make  society  feel  it  some- 
how.    I  am  thankful  for  all  the  methodical,  well- 


EXTRA  SERVICE.  145 

systematized  work  of  religious  societies  and  of  the 
church;  it  is  doing  good.  But  I  wish  we  could 
have  these  methodical  lines  set  on  fire.  I  wish 
there  were  more  glow  in  our  church-life.  As  I 
go  about  among  people,  I  do  not  find  them  any 
too  ready  to  speak  of  Christ  and  of  his  work.  I 
go  into  house  after  house,  and  I  hear  all  sorts  of 
subjects  talked  about,  but  little  of  the  church  of 
Christ,  its  interests,  and  its  work.  Mere  order  is 
cold,  rigid,  and  lifeless.  You  know  how,  one  night 
in  each  year,  the  dome  and  front  of  St.  Peter's 
at  Rome  are  illuminated.  All  over  the  great 
curves  of  the  dome,  and  along  the  columns  and 
mouldings  and  balconies,  the  lines  of  lamps  are 
drawn ;  but  what  a  ghastly  sight  is  this  skeleton 
of  lamps  until,  at  the  signal,  every  line  of  the 
mighty  structure,  from  cross  to  foundation,  leaps 
into  living  light !  So  it  will  be  with  our  mechani- 
cal duties,  our  well-organized  societies,  our  forms 
of  worsliip,  yea,  our  creeds  and  catechisms,  unless 
the  Spirit  of  Pentecost  shall  touch  and  set  them 
ablaze.  Oh,  that  there  might  come,  as  in  Ezekiel's 
vision,  the  heavenly  messenger,  with  hand  filled 
with  the  coals  of  fire  from  between  the  cherubim, 
kindling  all  our  hearts,  and  setting  every  line  of 
our  church-order  aglow  with  heavenly  love  !  Some- 
times this  rigid  order,  this  systematic  and  punc- 
tilious distribution  of  duty,  goes  with  a  worldly 
half-heartedness,  which  metes  out  so  much  to 
Christ  and  his  work,  and  says  he  shall  have  this, 
—  so  much  time,  so  much  money,  —  but  he  must  not 
trench  on  my  hours  of  rest  and  leisure.     He  must 


146  EXTRA  SERVICE. 

keep  his  hands  from  what  I  set  aside  for  my  indul- 
gences and  pleasures.  When  I  have  ploughed  so 
many  hours  in  the  field,  it  is  my  right  to  sit  down 
to  meat,  and  be  served.  I  must  not  be  asked  to 
gird  myself,  and  serve  him. 

And  the  moment  a  man  puts  himself  on  that 
lower  ground,  and  begins  to  measure  out  his  times 
and  degrees  of  service,  and  to  reckon  what  is  due 
to  himself,  that  moment  he  runs  sharply  against 
this  parable.  That  moment  Christ  meets  his  as- 
sertion of  his  rights  with  this  unlovely  picture. 
The  parable  says  to  him,  in  effect,  "If  you  put 
the  matter  on  the  business  basis,  on  the  ground  of 
your  rights  and  merits,  I  meet  you  on  that  ground, 
and  challenge  you  to  make  good  your  claim.  I 
made  you :  I  redeemed  you,  body  and  soul,  with 
my  own  blood.  Every  thing  you  have  or  are,  you 
owe  to  my  free  grace.  What  are  your  rights? 
What  are  your  claims  on  me?  What  is  your 
ground  for  refusing  any  claim  I  may  see  fit  to 
make  upon  you  ?  What  claim  have  you  for 
thanks  for  any  service  you  may  render  me  at  any 
time?"  And  the  man  cannot  complain  of  this 
answer.  It  is  indeed  the  master's  answer  to  a 
slave ;  but  then,  the  man  has  put  himself  on  the 
slave's  ground.  The  other  kind  of  servant,  as  I 
have  said,  has  gotten  out  of  the  way  of  this  para- 
ble. He  raises  no  question  of  rights,  claims,  or 
wages.  His  thought  is  only  of  his  master's  rights. 
His  kind  of  service  involves  more  labor,  and  is  met 
by  gifts,  not  wages.  That  is  the  service  of  the 
widow  who  dropped  her  two  mites  into  the  treas- 


EXTRA  SERVICE.  147 

ury.  The  world  would  have  justified  her  in  hold- 
ing back  her  last  penny.  Christ  himself  would 
not  have  been  hard  with  her:  but  love  gave  its 
last  and  its  best ;  and  not  the  mites,  but  the  love, 
has  made  her  immortal.  It  is  the  service  of  her 
who  poured  the  ointment  on  Christ's  head.  Even 
to  the  disciples,  the  gift  seemed  like  waste.  Less 
would  have  sufficed ;  but  love's  impulse  could  not 
rest  until  the  flask  was  broken,  and  the  whole  pre- 
cious contents  bestowed  on  that  adorable  head : 
and  hence  it  is,  that,  whenever  this  gospel  is 
preached,  the  story  of  that  woman's  love  is  told. 

And,  on  this  higher  basis  of  service,  Christ's 
disciple  meets  with  another  class  of  sayings,  quite 
different  from  this  parable,  —  sayings  which  put 
him  in  a  nearer  and  nobler  relation  to  Christ,  and 
which  lift  his  work  entirely  out  of  the  region  of 
moral  serfdom.  Christ  says  to  such,  "  Henceforth 
I  call  you  not  servants ;  for  the  servant  knoweth 
not  what  his  Lord  doeth :  but  I  have  called  you 
friends ;  for  all  things  which  I  have  received  of  my 
Father  I  have  delivered  unto  you."  To  the  servile 
spirit,  Christ  asserts  his  masterdom.  He  has  no 
word  of  thanks  for  the  grumbling  slave  who 
grudges  the  service  at  his  table  after  the  day's 
ploughing ;  but  to  the  loving  disciple,  —  the  friend 
to  whom  his  service  is  joy  and  reward  enough,  and 
who  puts  self  and  all  its  belongings  at  his  disposal, 
—  it  is  strange,  wondrous  strange,  but  true,  never- 
theless, that  Christ  somehoiv  slips  into  the  servanfs 
place.  Strange,  I  repeat ;  but  here  is  Christ's  own 
word  for  it :  "  Let  your  loins  be  girded  about,  and 


148  EXTRA  SERVICE. 

your  lights  burning."  Here  is  a  picture  of  night- 
work,  you  see.  "And  ye  yourselves  like  unto 
men  that  wait  for  their  lord,  when  he  will  return 
from  the  wedding;  that  when  he  cometh  and 
knocketh,  they  may  open  unto  him  immediately." 
Here  are  the  servants,  weary,  no  doubt,  with  the 
day's  work,  but  waiting  and  watching  far  into  the 
hours  of  rest  for  their  master,  and  flying  with 
cheerful  readiness  to  the  door  at  his  first  knock. 
What  then  ?  "  Blessed  are  those  servants,  whom 
the  master  when  he  cometh  shall  find  watching : 
verily  I  say  unto  you,  that  he  shall  gird  himself^ 
and  make  them  to  sit  doivn  to  meat,  and  will  come 
forth  and  serve  them^  The  amount  of  the  matter 
is,  that  for  him  who  gives  himself  without  reserve 
to  Christ's  service,  Christ  puts  himself  at  his  ser- 
vice. When  he  accepts  Christ's  right  over  him 
with  his  whole  heart,  not  as  a  sentence  to  servi- 
tude, but  as  his  dearest  privilege,  counting  it  above 
all  price  to  be  bought  and  owned  by  such  a  mas- 
ter, he  finds  himself  a  possessor  as  well  as  a  posses- 
sion :  "  All  things  are  yours,  and  ye  are  Christ's." 
The  things  which  master  the  slave  are  mastered 
by  the  friend.  Fidelity  is  mastery.  "  Thou  hast 
been  faithful  over  a  few  things,  I  will  make  thee 
ruler  over  many  things."  Life,  with  its  vicissitudes, 
instead  of  a  burden  to  crush  the  man,  or  a  current 
to  carry  him  helplessly  down,  becomes  his  seat  of 
power;  all  its  chances  and  changes  marshalled 
upon  God's  lines,  and  made  to  minister  to  spiritual 
power  and  peace  and  to  future  glory.  "  Death  is 
yours."     How  wonderful  I     The  king  of  terrors, 


EXTRA  SERVICE.  149 

wlio  resistlessly  siezes  and  carries  away  whom  he 
will,  is  no  more  master  but  servant,  standing  hum- 
bled and  chained  as  porter  at  the  gate  through 
which  you  pass  to  the  court  of  the  King  Eternal. 
"Things  present,"  —  Christ's  touch  makes  you 
master  of  them.  They  are  yours,  You  are  mas- 
ter of  each  day's  trials  and  burdens.  You  mount 
on  them  a  step  nearer  heaven,  instead  of  being 
driven  by  them  as  with  a  whip  of  scorpions. 
"Things  to  come,"  —  they  trouble  the  servile 
heart.  His  outlook  is  dark.  They  cannot  trouble 
him  to  whom  Christ  says,  "  I  go  to  prepare  a  place 
for  you,  and  I  will  come  again,  and  receive  you 
unto  myself;  that  where  I  am,  there  ye  may  be 
also." 

The  two  lines  of  service  are  before  us.  Which 
shall  we  choose?  Wretched  is  he  whom  the  Lord 
calls  unprofitable  servant.  Happy  he  who  calls 
himself  so. 


IX. 

THE  PRIDE   OF   CARE. 


IX. 
THE  PRIDE  OF   CARE. 

"  Humble  yourselves  therefore  under  the  mighty  hand  of  God, 
that  he  may  exalt  you  in  due  time; 

"  Casting  all  your  anxiety  upon  him,  because  he  careth  for 
you."  —  1  Peter  v.  6,  7. 

A  MAN,  digging  among  ruins,  strikes  a  tile  of 
an  exquisite  pattern.  Its  design  seems  com- 
plete in  itself.  He  admires  the  graceful  lines  and 
the  charming  color,  carries  away  his  prize,  and 
shows  it  with  delight  to  his  friends ;  but,  when  he 
goes  back  to  the  mine,  behold !  the  workmen  have 
laid  bare  a  broad  surface  paved  with  similar  tiles, 
and  he  finds  that  his  specimen  is  only  a  fragment 
of  a  larger  pattern.  If  he  thought  it  beautiful  by 
itself,  how  much  more  beautiful  it  is  as  a  part  of 
the  larger  design. 

So  it  is  with  Scripture.  Single  texts  it  fur- 
nishes in  multitudes,  full  of  beauty,  power,  and 
comfort.  But  Scripture  hangs  together.  It  is  a 
unit,  and  every  text  gains  by  being  studied  in  its 
connections.  The  last  verse  of  this  passage,  for 
example,  is  almost  always  quoted  by  itself:  "Cast- 
ing all  your  anxiety  upon  him,  because  he  careth 
for  you;"  and,  standing  thus  alone,  it  is  full  of 

153 


154  THE  PRIDE   OF  CARE. 

blessed  meaning  and  consolation ;  and  yet,  by 
separating  it  from  the  preceding  verse,  we  lose  a 
whole  side  of  its  teaching,  and  a  very  important 
side. 

Nevertheless,  it  is  not,  perhaps,  evident  at  once 
where  these  two  verses  fit  into  each  other,  —  hum- 
ble yourselves,  and  cast  your  anxiety  on  God. 
How  does  care  demand  humility? 

The  two  parts  of  the  text,  taken  together,  state 
this  truth :  that  anxiety  carries  with  it  a  division 
of  faith  between  God  and  self,  —  a  lack  of  faith 
in  God,  proportioned  to  the  amount  of  care  which 
we  refuse  to  cast  on  him ;  an  excess  of  self-confi- 
dence, proportioned  to  the  amount  which  we  insist 
on  bearing  ourselves.  If  we  refuse  to  let  God 
carry  for  us  what  he  desires  and  offers  to  carry, 
pride  is  at  the  bottom  of  the  refusal.  Therefore, 
the  apostle  says,  "  Humble  yourselves  under  God's 
mighty  hand.  Confess  the  weakness  of  your  hand. 
Do  not  try  to  carry  the  anxiety  with  your  weak 
hand.  Cast  it  all  on  him.  Believe  that  he  cares 
for  you,  and  be  humbly  willing  that  he  should 
care  for  you." 

The  revised  version  has  brought  out  a  very 
important  distinction  by  the  substitution  of  "  anx- 
iety" for  "care."  Anxiety,  according  to  its  deri- 
vation, is  that  which  distracts  and  racks  the  mind, 
and  answers  better  to  the  original  word,  which  sig- 
nifies a  dividing  thing,  something  which  distracts 
the  heart,  and  separates  it  from  God.  The  word 
'-'- caretli^^  on  the  other  hand,  used  of  God  ("he 
careth  for  you  "),  is  a  different  word  in  the  origi- 


THE   PRIDE   OF  CARE.  155 

nal,  and  means  supervising  and  fostering  care,  lov- 
ing interest,  such  care  as  a  father  has  for  a  child. 
I  want  to  show  how  the  spirit  which  refuses  to  give 
up  its  dividing  anxiety  to  God  is  allied  to  pride, 
and  unbecoming  a  child  in  the  household  of  a 
divine  Father  who  cares  for  him. 

Our  Lord's  Sermon  on  the  Mount  lays  great 
stress  on  this.  Over  against  the  natural  tendency 
to  fear  and  disquietude,  it  sets  the  loving  care  of 
an  almighty  Father.  He  feeds  and  shelters  the 
birds ;  he  adorns  the  flowers ;  he  is  more  ready  to 
bless  his  children  than  earthly  parents  are  to  give 
good  gifts  to  theirs.  Meat,  drink,  raiment,  —  the 
man  says  he  cannot  live  without  them.  "  True," 
says  Christ, "  God  knows  that  quite  as  well  as  you 
do.  Your  heavenly  Father  knoweth  that  ye  have 
need  of  all  these  things.  The  surest  way  to  have 
them  is  to  trust  in  him.  These  things  are  included 
in  his  kingdom.  Seek  that,  and  all  these  things 
shall  be  added." 

Yet  men  will  say,  and  very  plausiblj^  "  The  anx- 
ious man  has  some  excuse."  Take,  for  instance, 
a  man  in  a  position  where  many  are  depending  on 
him  for  guidance  or  instruction,  and  where  great 
interests  are  bound  up  with  his  success.  It  will 
be  said,  "  It  would  be  strange  if  he  were  not  anx- 
ious." From  the  world's  ordinary  point  of  view, 
I  should  say  so  too.  At  any  rate,  he  too  often  is 
anxious,  careworn,  living  in  a  feverish  scramble  to 
overtake  his  work,  haunted  by  the  arrears  of  work. 
You  honor  his  conscientiousness.  So  do  I.  You 
say  it  is  unjust  to  find  fault  with  him.     I  reply, 


156  THE   PRIDE   OF  CARE. 

God  finds  fault  with  him,  even  while  he  honors 
his  diligence  and  fidelity,  —  finds  fault  with  him 
because  he  will  not  cast  off  his  anxiety  on  God, 
who  has  offered  to  relieve  him  of  it.  Is  that  unjust 
on  the  part  of  our  Father  ?  If  so,  you  are  guilty 
of  similar  injustice.  Your  little  son  is  taken  sick, 
and  is  unable  to  prejDare  his  lesson  for  to-morrow's 
school.  He  is  worried  and  disappointed;  he  is 
anxious  to  excel ;  he  is  high  up  in  his  class,  and 
wants  to  keep  his  place.  You  say  to  him,  "  Dis- 
miss all  care  about  that.  I  will  make  it  rio^ht  with 
the  teacher."  And  you  have  a  right  to  expect 
that  the  boy  will  be  satisfied  with  that ;  that  he 
will  take  you  at  your  word,  and  trouble  himself 
no  more  about  the  lesson.  And  if,  in  the  course 
of  an  hour,  you  find  him  worrying  about  it,  are 
you  not  annoyed,  and  displeased  with  him  ?  Do 
you  not  say  to  him,  "You  ought  to  have  more 
confidence  in  me  "  ? 

Pride,  I  say,  —  subtle,  unconscious  pride, — is  at 
the  bottom  of  much  of  this  restlessness  and  worry. 
The  man  has  come  to  think  himself  too  important, 
to  feel  that  the  burden  is  on  his  shoulders  only ; 
and  that,  if  he  stands  from  under,  there  must  be  a 
crash.  And,  just  to  the  degree  in  which  that  feel- " 
ing  has  mastered  him,  his  thought  and  faith  have 
become  divided  from  God.  Let  us  give  him  his 
due.  It  is  not  for  his  own  ease  or  reputation  that 
he  has  been  caring.  It  is  for  his  work.  And  yet 
he  has  measurably  forgotten,  that,  if  his  work  be 
of  God,  God  is  as  much  interested  in  his  success 
as  he  himself  can  be ;  and  that  God  will  carry  on 


THE  PRIDE   OF  CARE.  157 

his  own  work,  no  matter  how  many  workmen  he 
buries.  He  divides  the  burden,  and  shows  whom 
he  trusts  most  by  taking  the  larger  part  himself, 
when  God  bids  him  cast  it  all  on  him.  God,  in- 
deed, exempts  nobody  from  work.  We  may  cast 
our  anxiety^  but  not  our  worlc^  on  him.  A  sense  of 
responsibility  is  a  brace  to  manhood,  and  a  devel- 
oper of  power ;  and,  because  God  wants  work  and 
responsibility  to  re-act  healthfully  on  men,  he  wants 
them  to  work  with  a  hearty,  joyous  spirit.  When 
the  joy  and  the  enthusiasm  have  gone  out  of  work, 
something  is  wrong.  There  is  a  pithy  proverb 
that  "not  work,  but  worry,  kills  men."  God  is 
providing  for  man's  doing  his  work  most  efficiently 
when  he  offers  him  the  means  of  doing  it  joyfully 
by  casting  all  anxiety  on  him. 

There  are  few  men  in  responsible  positions  who 
have  not  felt  the  force  of  a  distinguished  English- 
man's words :  "■  I  divide  my  work  into  three  parts- 
One  part  I  do,  one  part  goes  undone,  and  the 
third  part  does  itself."  That  third  part  which 
does  itself  is  a  very  expressive  hint  as  to  the  need- 
lessness  of  our  fretting  about  at  least  one-third  of 
our  work,  besides  giving  a  little  puncture  to  our 
self-conceit  by  showing,  that,  to  one-third  of  our 
work,  we  are  not  quite  as  necessary  as  we  had 
thought  ourselves.  And  as  to  the  third,  which 
the  God-fearing  man  cannot  do,  and  which  there- 
fore goes,  or  seems  to  go,  undone,  there  is  a  further 
hint  that  possibly  that  third  is  better  undone,  or 
is  better  done  in  some  other  way  and  by  some 
other  man.    That  does  not  flatter  our  pride.    I  am 


158  THE   PRIDE   OF  CARE. 

very  sure  that  it  is  always  true  for  every  faithful 
Christian  worker,  that  whatever  he  cannot  do, 
after  having  done  his  best,  it  is  better  that  he 
should  not  do.  And  just  there  is  where  the 
humility  comes  in,  —  in  the  frank  and  cheerful 
acceptance  of  the  fact,  in  casting  all  care  about 
it  on  the  Lord,  and  in  not  worrying  and  growing 
irritated  over  it.  Says  a  modern  preacher,  "I 
love  to  work,  but  I  have  carried  all  my  life  long 
a  sense  that  the  work  was  so  vast  that  no  man,  I 
did  not  care  who  he  was,  could  do  more  than  a 
very  little ;  that  he  who  could  raise  up  children 
from  the  stones  to  Abraham,  could  raise  up  men 
when  he  had  a  mind  to,  and  men  of  the  right  kind, 
and  put  them  in  the  right  place ;  that,  after  all, 
the  Lord  was  greater  than  the  work,  and  that  it 
was  of  no  use  for  me  to  fret  myself,  and  set  myself 
up  to  be  wiser  than  Providence.  All  I  was  called 
upon  to  do  was  to  work  up  to  the  measure  of  my 
wisdom  and  strength,  and  to  be  willing  to  go 
wherever  God  sent  me ;  and  that  then  I  was  to 
be  content." 

A  good  deal  of  our  energy  is  expended  in  plan- 
ning; and,  when  our  plan  is  once  made,  we  set 
our  life  on  that  track,  and  it  runs  with  an  ever- 
increasing  momentum.  We  do  not  relish  a  col- 
lision or  a  delay.  Insensibly  we  fall"  into  the  way 
of  assuming  that  success  in  life  means  simply  the 
success  of  our  plan.  Do  we  bethink  ourselves, 
that,  if  our  plan  is  best  in  God's  eyes,  he  is  as  much 
interested  in  carrying  it  out  as  we  are  ?  If  it  is 
not  best  in  his  eyes,  surely  we  do  not  want  it  car- 


THE  PRIDE   OF  CARE.  159 

ried  out.  Either  way  we  may  safely  and  restfully 
leave  it  with  God.  If  we  are  determined  to  carry 
it  out  anyway,  and  are  irritated  at  obstacles  and 
delays,  is  that  any  thing  but  pride?  Are  we  so 
sure  our  plan  is  right,  so  proud  of  our  pet  project, 
that  we  must  torment  ourselves  if  God  does  not 
pet  and  foster  it  as  we  do  ?  Oh,  how  afraid  we 
are  that  our  poor  earthen  vessels  will  go  to  pieces! 
Possibly  we  have  forgotten  how  God  once  defeated 
his  people's  enemies  by  means  of  the  breaking  of 
vessels.  What  fools  those  three  hundred  of  Gideon 
would  have  been  if  their  attention  had  been  ab- 
sorbed in  keeping  their  pitchers  unbroken ;  and 
especially  if,  at  the  command  to  break  the  pitchers, 
they  had  said,  "  What  a  shame  to  spoil  so  much 
good  earthenware ! "  They  would  have  saved 
their  pitchers,  but  would  have  lost  their  victory. 
A  pitcher  for  a  victory,  a  plan  for  a  success,  fine 
strategy  on  paper  for  conquest,  —  a  poor  exchange, 
surely. 

It  is  right  for  us  to  make  plans ;  but  we  ought  to 
draw  them  as  we  draw  the  first  draught  of  a  plan 
for  a  new  house,  in  lines  that  can  be  easily  rubbed 
out  if  God  so  please.  Pride  gets  into  these  plans 
before  we  know  it.  We  think  we  want  God's 
work  to  succeed,  and  so  we  do ;  only,  we  want  it 
to  succeed  in  our  way,  and  on  the  line  of  our  plan. 
And  yet  not  seldom  God  brings  about  the  very 
result  we  are  working  for,  by  breaking  our  plan 
all  to  pieces.  Then  comes  the  test  of  our  humility. 
Are  we  content  to  cast  the  whole  matter  on  God, 
and  to  look   cheerfully  on   the  fragments  of  our 


160  THE   PRIDE    OF   CARE. 

plan  ?  Are  we  humble  enough  not  to  feel  grieved 
or  angry  because  God  chooses  somebody  or  some- 
thing else  to  do  the  same  work  ?  Sometimes  God 
lets  us  see  how  much  better  the  work  is  done  by 
the  breaking  of  our  plan.  The  forty  years  among 
the  mountain  solitudes  seemed  to  Moses,  perhaps, 
lost  time ;  but  that  slow,  tedious  ripening  gave 
Israel  a  leader  and  a  law-giver.  The  next  forty 
years  yielded  rich  interest  on  the  sad  monotony 
of  the  previous  forty.  It  seemed  to  Jacob  that 
every  thing  was  against  him  when  Joseph  was 
stolen  away.  He  could  not  see  that  Joseph  had 
been  sent  to  prepare  a  home  for  his  old  age,  and 
to  lay  the  foundations  of  a  nation  which  should  bear 
his  name.  It  seemed  as  though  the  church  could 
not  spare  Paul  when  he  was  shut  up  in  prison, 
but  the  church  of  to-day  has  the  four  epistles  of 
the  imprisonment  from  that  chained  hand. 

A  young  lady  had  consecrated  herself  to  the 
work  of  missions,  and  was  about  to  go  to  India. 
Just  at  that  point,  an  accident  disabled  her  mother, 
and  the  journey  had  to  be  deferred.  For  three 
years  she  ministered  at  that  bedside,  until  the 
mother  died,  leaving  as  her  last  request  that  she 
should  go  and  visit  her  sick  sister  in  the  far  West. 
She  went,  intending  to  sail  for  India  immediately 
on  her  return  ;  but  she  found  the  sister  dying  with 
comsumption,  and  without  proper  attendance :  and 
once  more  she  waited  until  the  end  came.  Again 
her  face  was  turned  eastward,  when  the  sister's 
husband  died,  and  five  little  orphans  had  no  soul 
on  earth  to  care  for  them  but  herself.     "  No  more 


THE   PRIDE   OF  CARE.  161 

projects  for  going  to  the  heathen,'"  she  wrote. 
"  This  lonely  household  is  my  mission."  Fifteen 
years  she  devoted  to  her  young  charge ;  and,  in  her 
forty-fifth  year,  God  showed  her  why  be  had  held 
her  back  from  India,  as  she  laid  her  hand  in  bless- 
ing on  the  heads  of  three  of  them  ere  they  sailed 
as  missionaries  to  the  same  land  to  which,  twenty 
years  before,  she  had  proposed  to  go.  Her  broken 
plan  had  been  replaced  by  a  larger  and  a  better 
one.  One  could  not  go,  but  three  went  in  her 
stead :  a  good  interest  for  twenty  years. 

But  there  is  a  class  of  cases  where  anxiety 
is  clearly  prompted  by  self-interest,  vanity,  and 
worldly  ambition.  Self  cannot  cast  such  anxiety 
on  God,  because  God  will  not  take  it.  When  God 
bids  us  humble  ourselves,  he  surely  will  not  minis- 
ter to  our  pride.  He  will  not  stretch  out  a  finger 
to  lighten  the  burdens  of  sensitive  vanity,  or  to 
save  pride  from  a  fall.  If  you  are  aiming,  for 
instance,  merely  to  make  a  show  in  society,  with- 
out regard  to  solid  worth  or  usefulness ;  if  you  are 
harassed  with  care  in  keeping  up  your  sham,  and 
with  fear  lest  some  one  may  see  through  it,  —  you 
dare  not  cast  that  care  on  God.  You  know  very 
well,  that,  if  you  jDut  such  a  thing  as  that  into  his 
hand,  he  will  break  it  to  pieces.  So  jovl  will  have 
to  carry  that  burden  all  alone,  if  you  insist  on 
carrying  it.  You  know  that  if  you  cast  your  care 
on  God,  you  will  have  to  humble  yourself ;  and  to 
be  humbled  is  the  very  thing  you  are  most  afraid 
of.  If  you  are  making  such  mad  haste  to  be  rich 
that  all  the  sweetness  lias  gone  out  of  your  life,  if 


162  THE  PRIDE  OF  CARE. 

you  are  in  hot  pursuit  of  the  superfluities  of  this 
world,  and  are  leaving  behind  you  in  the  chase 
Christian  charity  and  Christian  duty  and  Christian 
worship,  do  you  think  God  is  going  to  lighten  your 
burdens  so  that  you  can  go  faster  after  your  end  ? 
Nay,  I  challenge  you  to  cast  that  care  on  God. 
You  will  not  do  it.  You  know  that  God  has  no 
sympathy  with  it.  If  you  will  convert  yourself 
into  a  coining-press,  you  need  not  expect  God  to 
help  it  run  smoothly  when  your  faith  and  your 
domestic  affection,  and  all  your  best  possibilities, 
are  run  into  dollars.  It  is  hard  enough  work,  as 
you  know,  —  harder  and  drier  than  God  would  have 
chosen  for  you ;  but  you  must  do  it  alone.  Care 
which  will  not  humble  itself  under  his  hand,  he 
will  not  touch.  It  is  not  an  easy  thing  that  the 
text  urges.  If  it  were  merely  to  throw  off  trouble 
of  all  kinds  on  God,  that  might  not  be  so  hard. 
But  God  does  not  hold  out  his  arms  to  our  bur- 
dens unconditionally  :  he  is  willing  to  take  the 
burden  on  his  hand,  if  we  ourselves  will  come  and 
stay  under  his  hand,  not  otherwise.  He  refuses 
to  take  the  care  without  the  self.  If  we  will  put 
the  self  into  his  hand  absolutely,  he  will  take  it, 
care  and  all.  But  many  an  one  would  like  to 
cast  the  care  on  God,  and  keep  the  self  in  his  own 
hand.  The  text  does  not  mean  merely"  the  laying 
down  of  wearied  heads  on  a  fatherly  arm,  but  the 
voluntary  stooping  of  proud  heads.  Casting  all 
our  care  on  God  is  casting  self  on  God,  for  self  is 
our  worst  care.  It  is  not  merely  coming  to  God 
with  our  failures,  and  asking  him  to  make  them 


THE  PRIDE   OF  CARE.  163 

good,  but  it  is  confessing  also  that  our  unaided 
self  is  the  worst  failure  of  all,  and  saying  frankly 
to  our  heavenly  Father,  "  Without  thee  I  can  do 
nothing." 

God  has  different  ways  of  teaching  this  lesson. 
You  know  how  a  schoolmaster  will  sometimes  shut 
himself  up  with  a  dull  pupil,  and  hold  him  down 
to  a  problem.  So  God  sometimes  shuts  a  man  up 
with  himself  and  his  own  helplessness.  Even 
then  he  does  not  force  the  man's  will ;  but  he 
means  that  he  shall  for  once  look  squarely  at  the 
impotence  of  self,  that  he  shall  for  once  face  and 
confess  to  himself  the  fact  that  self  has  exhausted 
its  resources,  that  the  world  cannot  help  him, 
that  he  has  nothing  in  heaven  or  earth  but  God. 
That,  as  men  see  it,  is  a  terrible  blow  to  pride.  The 
bitterest  draught  that  ever  a  man  is  called  on  to 
drink  is  the  confession  that  he  cannot  help  himself. 
The  world  says,  a  man  is  at  his  worst  then.  I  am 
not  sure  of  that.  The  Bible  would  say  that  he  is 
just  within  reach  of  his  best.  I  heard  a  little  story 
the  other  day,  which  was  very  suggestive.  An  old 
Scotch  woman  was  on  a  steamer  in  the  Northern 
Atlantic,  and  was  in  a  continual  worry  lest  there 
should  be  a  storm.  The  wind  and  the  sea  began 
to  rise ;  and  she  besieged  the  captain  with  questions 
about  the  probabilities  of  disaster,  until,  becoming 
a  little  impatient,  he  solemnly  said,  "  Well,  madam, 
I  think  we  shall  have  to  trust  in  the  Lord." 
"■  Oh  I  "  cried  she,  "  has  it  come  to  that?  "  It  is  the 
simple,  spontaneous  utterance  of  human  unbelief, 
when  it  is  thrown  on  God  alone.     Has  it  come  to 


164  THE   PRIDE   OF  CARE. 

that?  Then,  indeed,  we  are  in  evil  case.  Paul 
did  not  think  so,  however.  He  was  in  that  situa- 
tion during  most  of  his  life ;  and  he  really  seemed 
to  think  that  the  situation  was  not  only  not  hope- 
less, but  commanding:  "If  God  be  for  us,  who 
can  be  against  us  ? "  There  was  Elijah.  God 
drove  him  into  the  wilderness,  where,  for  any 
thing  he  could  do,  he  must  perish.  But  he  did 
not  perish.  God  made  the  ravens  his  purveyors, 
and  caused  the  brook  to  flow  for  his  refreshment. 
Then  the  brook  dried  up.  He  had  no  water,  but 
he  had  God ;  and,  at  the  critical  moment,  came 
God's  word :  "  Go  to  Zarephath ;  I  have  commis- 
sioned a  widow  to  feed  thee."  She  was  at  the 
gate  when  the  prophet  came,  but  the  prospect  was 
not  encouraging.  She  was  gathering  sticks  to 
bake  her  last  handful  of  meal,  and  there  was  a 
sou  to  take  the  small  share  which  the  prophet 
might  have  had;  and  what  mother's  heart  could 
hesitate  between  her  child  and  a  stran^rer  ?  Eli- 
jah  might  have  trusted  the  evidence  of  his  senses, 
and  have  despaired,  instead  of  casting  all  care  for 
the  matter  on  God ;  but  he  can  even  ask  the  fam- 
ishing mother  to  bring  him  the  first  share  of  the 
wretched  repast,  knowing  that  the  barrel  and 
the  cruse  were  in  the  hand  of  Him  who  maketh 
the  valleys  stand  thick  with  corn,  and  tlie  face  of 
His  people  to  shine  though  the  labor  of  the  olive 
fail.  There  were  those  three  Hebrews.  Look 
into  the  blazing  moutli  of  that  seven-fold  heated 
furnace,  and  at  those  three  men  lying  bound,  and 
tell  me  what  is  there  for  them  but  death.     They 


THE  PRIDE   OF  CARE.  165 

needed  no  mocking  king  nor  courtiers  to  tell  them 
they  could  not  help  themselves.  Self  and  all  were 
in  God's  hands.  The  case  could  not  be  worse  as 
men  saw  it ;  and  yet,  in  fact,  the  case  Avas  at  its 
best.  They  had  nothing  but  God ;  but  they  had 
in  God  the  best  that  man  or  angel  could  have : 
the  flame  burned  their  bonds,  but  not  them ;  and 
they  rose,  and  walked  in  the  fire ;  and  the  amazed 
spectators  saw  a  fourth  walking  with  them,  and 
his  form  was  like  unto  the  Son  of  God. 

But  let  us  give  a  moment  to  the  latter  j^art  of 
the  text.  The  result  of  this  humbling  of  self,  and 
throwing  it  with  its  anxiety  on  God,  is  quite  con- 
trary to  human  logic.  The  world  says,  the  man 
who  is  humbled  is  the  crushed  man,  the  defeated 
man.  The  world  is  right,  if  the  man  is  simply 
crushed  into  submission  by  overwhelming  power  ; 
but  the  world  is  quite  wrong  if  the  man  has  vol- 
untarily bowed  the  high  head  of  his  pride,  and 
has  cheerfully  yielded  up  his  will  with  his  care 
to  God.  Such  humbling,  if  Scripture  is  to  be 
believed,  is  the  way  to  exaltation :  "  He  that  hum- 
bleth  himself  shall  be  exalted."  You  see  some- 
thing of  the  same  kind  in  ordinary  matters.  Now 
and  then  you  find  a  man  with  more  conceit  than 
ability,  with  more  self-confidence  than  resources, 
who  attempts  to  lead  a  great  movement,  or  to 
conduct  a  great  business ;  and  the  very  position 
brings  out  his  weakness ;  and  the  longer  he  stays 
in  it,  the  more  useless  and  dangerous  he  is,  and 
the  more  men  say  he  is  a  fool  and  a  weakling. 
And  yet  not  a  few  men  have  had  the  sense  or  the 


166  THE  PRIDE  OF  CARE. 

grace  to  see  tlie  true  state  of  the  case  in  time,  and 
to  swallow  pride,  and  frankly  to  confess  weakness 
by  retiring  from  a  place  for  which  they  were  un- 
fit. From  that  moment  they  began  to  rise.  They 
never  rose  to  the  high  position  which  they  coveted 
at  first,  but  they  rose  to  a  ti'ue  position,  which 
they  could  hold  ;  and  that  was  really  higher  than 
the  false  position  which  they  could  not  hold. 
They  became  respectable  and  useful  men,  doing 
good  work  in  lower  places,  and  winning  esteem 
and  honor ;  while,  if  they  had  held  on  to  the 
higher  place,  as  pride  prompted,  they  would  have 
won  simply  contempt  and  impotence.  What  is 
true  in  some  cases  in  society  is  true  always  of 
men  in  relation  to  God.  The  man  is  always  in  a 
false  position,  a  position  he  cannot  fill,  when  he 
ignores  God,  and  tries  to  take  care  of  himself. 
He  is  a  larger  man,  a  better  man,  a  more  efficient 
man,  by  humbling  himself  under  God's  hand,  and 
letting  God  take  care  of  him.  He  escapes,  I  re- 
peat, his  worst,  most  consuming  anxiety,  by  escap- 
ing from  self.  In  humbling  himself  under  God's 
hand,  care  slips  off  with  self;  and  surely  a  man  is 
in  a  better  condition  to  rise  when  he  is  lightened 
of  his  anxiety  :  he  is  in  lighter  marching-order. 
All  other  things  being  equal,  he  does  better  and 
more  effective  work  when  he  works  -  joyously. 
There  is  a  good  deal  of  good,  solid  work,  I  know, 
done  by  men  who  work  under  pressure,  and  with 
much  burden  of  care.  Sometimes,  as  I  look  at 
such,  I  am  reminded  of  Dante's  vision  of  those 
who  toiled  along  their  gloomy  way,  witli  head  and 


THE  PRIDE  OF  CAllE.  167 

shoulders  bent  under  the  weight  of  leaden  cloaks. 
The  leaden  cloaks  are  not  for  children  of  God  and 
believers  in  Christ:  "My  yoke  is  easy,  and  my 
burden  is  light."  We  shall  have  true  exaltation, 
lighter  hearts,  better  work  done,  more  mastery 
over  the  world,  less  sensitiveness  to  the  shocks  of 
time  and  change, — by  humbly  putting  our  lives 
into  God's  hands.  While  we  hold  by  self,  we  hold 
by  care.  The  self  which  we  fondly  think  is  our 
buoy  is  really  the  weight  which  is  sinking  us.  We 
lay  to  circumstances  and  to  providences  much 
that  is  really  the  outcome  of  nothing  but  our 
pride. 

And  note  another  thing :  the  exaltation  prom- 
ised here  will  not  come  at  once  :  "  He  shall  exalt 
you  in  due  time.''''  This  pride  of  self  is  a  stubborn 
thing,  and  will  not  yield  without  a  struggle  ;  and 
you  may  depend  that  God  will  bring  us  sooner  or 
later  to  a  definite  issue  and  a  hard  fight  with  self. 
We  shall  have  to  face  the  question,  whether  we 
will  trust  self,  and  live  in  constant  irritation  and 
fear  because  our  own  plans  have  come  short  or 
our  own  efforts  have  failed,  or  because  we  have 
not  won  the  position  or  the  gains  we  had  marked 
out ;  or  whether  we  will  cut  the  whole  matter  short 
by  saying,  "  I  am  in  God's  hands  :  let  him  give  me 
and  do  with  me  as  seemeth  good  to  him."  That 
issue,  I  say,  we  have  to  fight  through  :  there  is  no 
going  round  it.  We  are  like  ships  in  an  ice-pack. 
There  is  clear  and  deep  water  beyond  ;  but  there  is 
no  reaching  it  except  by  breaking  through  and 
settling  the  question,  whether  we  will  trust  self,  or 


168  THE  PRIDE   OF  CARE. 

God.  We  may  stay  if  we  will,  and  let  the  ice  of 
pride  and  self-will  draw  closer  until  it  freezes  out 
the  life  of  God  in  us.  We  may,  with  God's  help, 
work  through  into  the  clear  water,  and  set  sail, 
and  look  back  with  triumph  as  we  see  the  bristling 
mass  of  cares  lying  like  a  dark  cloud  on  the  far 
horizon  :  "  He  shall  exalt  you  in  due  time."  Read 
on  a  little  farther  in  this  same  chapter,  and  you 
find  that  thought  again  :  "  The  God  of  all  grace, 
who  hath  called  us  unto  his  eternal  glory  by  Christ 
Jesus,  after  that  ye  have  suffered  a  while,  make 
you  perfect,  stablish,  strengthen,  settle  you."  Ah ! 
that  is  exaltation  indeed :  security,  steadfastness, 
mastery  over  that  which  burdens  the  world,  peace 
which  the  world  cannot  give  nor  take  away. 

If  there  are  any  of  us  here  so  burdened  with 
anxiety  that  it  has  pressed  nearly  all  the  sweetness 
out  of  life,  let  us  consider.  Perhaps  we  think 
ourselves  subjects  for  compassion.  We  may  be ; 
but  let  us  look,  and  see  if  we  may  not  be  subjects 
for  repentance. 

Possibly  we  cannot  cast  off  care  because  we  will 
not  cast  off  pride.  Lay  the  whole  burden  of  care 
on  God,  if  with  it  you  will  lay  self.  Ask  yourself 
if  you  are  willing  to  be  any  thing  or  nothing,  as 
God  pleases.  Only  work  hard,  do  your  best,  con- 
secrate your  work  with  prayer  ;  and  then-  feel  that 
you  may  be  restful  and  quiet,  and  leave  every 
thing  with  God. 

So  with  the  care  which  comes  about  your  growth 
in  grace,  comes  out  of  the  stubbornness  of  sin, 
comes  out  of   your  feeling  that  you  make  such 


THE   PRIDE   OF  CARE.  169 

little  headway  in  the  fight  with  evil.  Christ  came 
that  you  might  lay  your  sin  on  him.  Because  of 
your  weakness,  he  shall  lead  you  to  the  rock  which 
is  higher  than  you.  He  bids  you  do  full  justice  to 
his  tenderness,  and  prove  his  mercy.     Yes,  — 

"  There's  a  wideness  in  God's  mercy 
Like  the  wideness  of  the  sea : 
There's  a  kindness  in  his  justice 
Which  is  more  than  liberty. 

There  is  plentiful  redemption 
In  the  blood  that  has  been  shed  ? 
There  is  joy  for  all  the  members 
In  the  sorrows  of  their  head. 

For  the  love  of  God  is  broader 
Than  the  measure  of  man's  mind, 
And  the  heart  of  the  Eternal 
Is  most  wonderfully  kind. 

If  our  love  were  but  more  simple, 
We  should  take  him  at  his  word  ; 
And  our  lives  would  be  all  sunshine 
In  the  sweetness  of  our  Lord." 


X. 

THE  PLOUGH  AND  THE  KINGDOM. 


V 


X 


X. 

THE  PLOUGH  AND  THE  KINGDOM. 

"  But  Jesus  said  unto  liim,  No  man,  having  put  his  hand  to  the 
plough,  and  looking  back,  is  fit  for  the  kingdom  of  God."  —  Luke 
ix.  62. 

IF  you  can  dismiss  from  your  minds  the  figure 
of  tlie  modern  farmer,  with  his  polished  plough- 
share leaving  the  deep,  clean  furrow  in  its  wake, 
and  put  in  its  place  the  figure  out  of  which  Jesus 
made  this  little  picture,  —  the  Eastern  ploughman 
doubled  over  the  pointed  stick  which  serves  as  a 
plough,  —  you  will  see  at  once  how  vividly  the 
absurdity  of  a  man's  ploughing  and  looking  be- 
hind him  at  the  same  time  would  have  impressed 
Christ's  hearers.  Even  a  modern  ploughman, 
with  the  best  modern  plough,  will  make  sad  work 
if  he  do  not  keep  his  eyes  straight  before  him. 
Anyway,  that  is  true  of  ploughing  which  is  true 
of  any  other  kind  of  work.  One  whose  interest 
is  half  in  front  and  half  behind  him  will  be  only 
a  half-way  man  in  any  thing  to  which  he  may  set 
his  hand.  All  good  work  requires  concentration. 
No  good  work  is  done  into  which  a  man  does  not 
throw  himself  wholly. 

This  picture  of  a  slouching  ploughman  is   the 

173 


174      THE  PLOUGH  AND  THE  KINGDOM. 

form  into  which  our  I^ord  throws  the  lesson  of  to- 
day, —  a  lesson  which  is  not  confined  to  the  text, 
but  which  runs  through  the  entire  section,  from 
the  fifty-seventh  verse  to  the  end  of  the  chapter. 

What  this  lesson  is,  will  appear  as  we  briefly 
review  the  contents  of  the  section.  Our  Lord  was 
about  to  take  his  final  departure  from  Galilee.  As 
he  walked,  a  man  approached  him.  Luke  says,  "a 
certain  man  ; "  and  Matthew  says  he  was  a  "  scribe." 
However  that  may  be,  he  was,  like  so  many  others, 
moved  powerfully  by  the  words  and  works  and 
personal  magnetism  of  Christ ;  and  he  conceived  a 
desire  to  become  one  of  his  followers.  Accord- 
ingly he  volunteered  his  services :  "  I  will  follow 
thee  whithersoever  thou  goest."  I  think  some  of 
us,  at  least,  have  begun  to  see  what  a  very  serious 
proposal  that  was.  It  is  no  light  matter  to  com- 
mit one's  self  to  follow  such  a  master  as  Christ 
whithersoever  he  may  go,  for  the  shrewdest  man 
can  never  predict  what  direction  Christ  will  take. 
The  most  sincere  and  self-consecrated  man  will 
always  have  an  element  of  surprise  in  his  walk 
after  Christ ;  for  the  simple  reason,  that  Christ  will 
lead  him  in  God's  ways  and  in  God's  kingdom, 
which  is  full  of  surprises,  and  where  he  will  find 
out,  if  he  did  not  realize  it  before,  that  God's  ways 
are  not  his  ways. 

Evidently  no  such  thought  as  this  had  occurred 
to  this  enthusiastic  volunteer.  If  it  had,  he  might 
have  hesitated.  Peter,  Christ's  own  disciple,  after 
a  long  acquaintance  with  the  Lord,  and  knowing 
that  he  was  going  to  prison  and  to  judgment,  said 


THE  PLOUGH  AND  THE  KINGDOM.  175 

very  much  the  same  thing  as  this  person ;  but  his 
enthusiasm  oozed  out  by  the  time  he  reached  the 
court  of  the  judgment-hall ;  and  he  staid  behind, 
and  denied  his  Lord.  This  man  had  conceived  of 
no  difficulty  in  the  case,  —  at  least,  of  none  which 
he  was  not  persuaded  of  his  own  ability  to  sur- 
mount. 

Christ  loves  enthusiasm,  even  if  it  is  not  wise. 
Calculation  sometimes  takes  the  breath  out  of 
enthusiasm.  That  young  man  who  came  to  him, 
asking,  "  What  shall  I  do  that  I  may  inherit  eter- 
nal life  ?"  had  not  counted  the  cost.  Yet  Jesus 
loved  him.  Christ  is  drawn  to  the  man  who  is 
kindled  by  him.  Even  the  unintelligent  impulse 
of  him  who  does  not  count  the  cost,  is  in  the  right 
direction.  That  enthusiasm  is  an  invaluable  ele- 
ment of  Christian  power  if  it  can  only  be  somehow 
perpetuated  in  a  life  of  steady  service  and  self- 
denial.  If  it  can  be  wedded  to  solid  conviction 
and  settled  purpose,  it  will  carry  everj^  thing  before 
it. 

Nevertheless,  our  Lord  will  not  let  a  man  enter 
his  service  without  a  full  knowledge  of  its 
conditions.  The  man  shall  never  have  it  to  say 
that  he  was  entrapped  into  sacrifices  and  labors 
upon  which  he  did  not  count.  You  will  all  recall 
our  Saviour's  words  about  the  building  of  a  house, 
and  the  going  out  to  war  without  counting  the 
cost ;  and  the  same  thing  comes  out  in  his  rej)ly  to 
this  volunteer :  "  Follow  me  if  you  will ;  only  re- 
member that,  in  taking  my  part,  j'ou  take  the  part 
of  one  who  does  not  fare  as  well  as  the  foxes  or 


176       THE  PLOUGH  AND  THE  KINGDOM. 

the  birds  —  the  part  of  a  wandering,  homeless 
man,  with  no  definite  position.  The  foxes  have 
holes,  and  the  birds  have  nests,  but  the  Son  of 
man  hath  not  where  to  lay  his  head.  If  you  come 
with  me,  you  identify  yourself  with  my  lot,  and 
share  the  hardness  of  my  life."  Nothing  more  is 
told  us.  The  account  of  that  interview  stops 
short ;  and  the  natural  inference,  I  think,  would  be, 
that  the  man's  enthusiasm  was  arrested  all  of  a 
sudden  by  the  revelation  of  such  a  possibility  as 
this.  It  was  a  delightful  and  inspiring  thing,  no 
doubt,  to  be  identified  with  a  man  who  could 
speak  such  words  and  do  such  works  as  Jesus  did ; 
but  then,  the  foxes  and  the  birds !  No :  he  must 
at  least  think  further  of  the  matter ;  and  so  we 
hear  no  more  of  our  enthusiastic  volunteer. 

The  next  man,  Jesus  addresses  with  his  familiar 
invitation,  "  Follow  me."  He,  too,  is  a  ready  man, 
kindled  like  the  first ;  but  he  is  naturally  a  more 
cautious  man.  Christ  seeks  all  men  ;  but  some  men 
go  half-way  to  meet  him,  others  make  liim  go  the 
whole  way.  This  man  is  ready  enough,  only  he 
has  a  filial  duty  to  perform  first.  His  father  is 
dead,  and  he  would  pay  the  respect  which  a  son 
owes  in  such  a  case  ;  and  no  one  would  be  more 
ready  than  Christ  to  acknowledge  the  force  of 
such  a  claim.  But  this  case  was  peculiar.  It  is 
more  a  representative  case  than  we  are  wont  to 
think,  —  representative,  I  mean,  of  one  of  those 
decisive  crises  when  a  man  is  brought  to  a  choice 
between  two  courses,  either  of  which  is  to  give 
character  to  his  whole  life.     Going   after   Christ 


THE  PLOUGH  AND  THE  KINGDOM  177 

was  a  different  thing  from  going  after  anybody 
else.  He  might  attach  himself  to  any  party-leader, 
or  to  a  side  of  any  temporary  movement,  and,  as 
to  the  rest  of  his  life,  go  on  in  the  ordinary  course ; 
and  he  might  withdraw  from  such  connections  at 
pleasure.  But  this  was  a  moral  issue.  To  decide 
for  or  against  Christ  was  to  choose  an  economy  of 
life.  Crises  of  that  kind  come  to  men  outside  of 
the  religious  sphere.  When  a  community,  in  the 
old  colonial  days,  was  suddenly  attacked  by  the 
Indians,  every  man  must  drop  every  thing  else,  and 
go  out  to  repel  the  savages.  He  must  leave  his 
team  unyoked  in  the  field,  his  plough  in  the  furrow, 
his  sick  wife  in  the  house,  liis  dead  child  or  father 
unburied,  and  seize  his  gun,  and  take  his  place  in 
the  ranks.  You  are  to  remember,  further,  that  this 
was  the  man's  only  chance  to  attach  himself  to 
Jesus.  The  Lord,  as  we  have  said,  was  going 
forth  from  Galilee  to  return  no  more.  According 
to  the  Jewish  law,  the  pollution  from  the  presence 
of  a  dead  body  lasted  seven  days.  By  that  time 
the  man's  first  enthusiasm  would  have  become 
chilled,  and  Jesus  would  be  out  of  reach.  The 
man  evidently  thought  that  it  was  only  a  question 
of  a  little  delay  in  following  Christ :  Jesus  knew 
that  it  was  a  question  of  following  him  now  or 
never. 

Then  comes  a  third.  He  offers  himself  also ; 
but  he,  too,  is  not  ready  to  go  at  once.  He  wants 
to  go  home,  and  take  leave  of  his  family  and 
friends.  And  in  this  case,  as  in  the  last,  Christ 
assumes  that  there  is  a  moral  crisis.     He  must  de- 


178  THE  PLOUGH  AND  THE  KINGDOM. 

cide  promptly  ;  and,  if  lie  decides  to  follow  Christ, 
he  must  promptly  forsake  all,  once  for  all,  and  fol- 
low him.  Let  liim  go  back  to  his  house,  and  the 
tears  and  remonstrances  of  friends  and  kindred 
would  shake  his  resolution.  They  would  say,  "  At 
any  rate,  if  you  must  go,  do  not  go  to-day :  let  us 
have  one  more  family  gathering.  Let  us  once 
more  sit  down  to  our  table  together.  Go  the 
rounds  once  more,  and  say  good-by  to  this  and 
that  friend."  He  never  would  have  gone  after 
Jesus.  Christ  says  to  him,  in  effect,  "  If  you  go 
after  me,  the  course  is  straightforward.  You  must 
give  up  every  thing  for  me  ;  take  me  in  place  of 
every  thing  ;  give  me  your  whole  heart :  and,  if 
part  of  your  heart  is  left  behind  with  friends  and 
home  and  old  associations,  it  is  of  no  use  for  you 
to  go.  You  are  not  fit  for  the  kingdom  of  God, 
any  more  than  a  man  is  fit  to  plough  a  field  who 
is  constantly  turning  from  his  plough  and  his  team 
to  look  backward. 

By  this  time  you  have  caught  the  lesson  of  the 
text.  It  is  the  lesson  of  committal^  —  the  truth, 
that,  to  follow  Christ  is  to  commit  one's  self  wholly 
and  irrevocably  to  Christ. 

And,  before  we  go  farther,  observe  what  Christ 
means  here  by  the  phrase  "  fit  for  the  kingdom  of 
God."  He  does  not  mean  that  the  wavering,  half- 
hearted, half-committed  man  shall  not  get  his 
reward  in  heaven ;  though  that  is  true.  The  king- 
dom of  (jod  is  not  a  matter  of  heaven  only.  The 
man  enters  the  kingdom  of  God  from  the  moment 
that  he  engages  to  follow  Christ,  or,  to  carry  out 


THE  PLOUGH  AND  THE  KINGDOM.      179 

the  figure  of  the  text,  from  the  moment  that  he 
enters  his  plougli.  God  lias  a  kingdom  on  earth 
as  well  as  in  heaven,  and  the  sphere  of  that  king- 
dom is  the  sphere  of  Christ's  service.  One  is 
here  under  substantially  the  same  moral  laws  as 
those  which  prevail  in  heaven :  so  that  the  ques- 
tion of  fitness  for  the  kingdom  of  God  which 
Christ  raises  is  not  a  question  merely  of  one's  fit- 
ness for  heaven  by  and  by  ;  it  is  also  a  question  of 
fitness  to  live  the  life,  and  to  meet  the  require- 
ments of  the  kingdom  of  God,  here  and  now.  We 
are  to  follow  Christ  here.  The  field  is  the  world, 
and  our  ploughing  is  to-day's  duty.  The  kingdom 
of  God  involves  laws  which  are  to  be  obeyed  here, 
sacrifices  which  are  to  be  made  here,  now,  to-day, 
and  every  day.  The  kingdom  of  God  is  already 
set  up  in  the  earth,  and  has  a  work  to  do  in  the 
world.  The  question  is,  whether  you  and  I  are 
fit  to  do  it ;  and  Christ  here  tells  us  that  we  are 
not  fit  for  it  unless  we  are  wholly  committed  to 
him. 

Again,  let  me  call  your  attention  to  the  figure 
in  which  the  truth  is  set.  A  man  cannot  plough, 
and  be  looking  behind  him  half  the  time.  Such 
a  man  is  not  fit  for  a  ploughman.  You  say.  Of 
course  not.  That  is  a  law  of  all  good  work,  that 
a  man  cannot  do  it  well  with  half  his  attention ; 
but  why  not,  then,  a  law  of  work  and  life  in  the 
kingdom  of  God?  We  have  a  great  deal  yet  to 
learn  about  the  words  of  Christ ;  and  one  of  the 
most  important  things  is,  that  these  apparently 
commonplace  truths  and  familiar  laws  which  he  so 


180      THE  PLOUGH  AND  THE  KINGDOM. 

often  cites  are  merely  sides,  or  ends  if  you  please, 
of  truths  and  laws  which  hold  in  the  whole  spirit- 
ual world.  It  is  not,  that,  in  this  little  picture  of 
an  incompetent  farm-hand,  Christ  gives  us  some- 
thing like  a  law  of  the  kingdom  of  God.  He 
states  the  law  itself.  Good  work  requires  the  en- 
tire committal  of  the  worker.  It  is  the  law  of 
Christian  service  and  of  ploughing  alike.  It  is 
this  fact  which  lifts  utterances  like  our  text  out  of 
the  region  of  commonplace.  They  seem  common- 
place where  they  touch  us,  but  their  line  runs  out 
to  truths  which  are  not  commonplace.  The  law 
of  the  plough  followed  up  appears  as  the  law  of 
the  kingdom  of  God.  Now,  this  law  of  entire 
committal  is  familiar  enough  to  us  in  its  worldly 
applications.  It  is  the  great  law  of  success  in 
ordinary  callings.  When  you  choose  a  calling  in 
life,  it  is  said  of  you,  "  He  is  going  to  devote  his 
life  to  business  or  to  law  or  to  medicine."  And 
you  know  very  well,  that,  if  you  are  to  succeed  in 
either,  the  expression  is  none  too  strong.  If  you 
are  going  to  be  a  successful  doctor,  you  must  give 
up  being  a  successful  merchant.  You  cannot  ex- 
pect to  be  a  power  in  science  or  in  letters.  You 
must  commit  and  devote  yourself  wholly  to  the 
thing  which  you  have  chosen.  And  the  kingdom 
of  God  is  a  more  serious  matter  than  law  or  medi- 
cine or  business.  Not  one  of  these  touches  your 
real  inner  life.  You  may  fail  in  business,  and  yet 
be  the  same  man  you  were  before  you  failed, — 
your  real  manhood  as  sound  and  true  as  when  you 
handled   hundreds   of  thousands.     But  the  king- 


THE   PLOUGH   AND  THE   KINGDOM.  181 

dom  of  God  does  touch  your  inmost  self.  The 
quality  of  your  manhood  turns  on  the  nature  of 
your  relation  to  it.  The  issue  is  between  tlie 
world  and  your  life.  You  cann.ot  fail  in  the  king- 
dom of  God  and  be  the  same  man  as  if  you  had 
not  failed.  Failure  there  is  radical.  Moreover, 
if  the  variety  and  magnitude  of  business  or  pro- 
fessional interests  demand  your  whole  energy, 
much  more  surely  the  interests  of  the  kingdom  of 
God.  It  is  harder  to  work  out  a  Christ-like  char- 
acter than  to  make  a  fortune.  It  is  harder  to 
overcome  the  world  than  to  outride  a  panic  or  to 
withstand  the  fluctuations  of  the  markets.  It  is 
harder  to  assert  the  character  of  the  meek  and 
lowly  Jesus  amid  surrounding  worldliness  and 
against  the  upheavals  of  passion  than  to  keep 
your  credit  unimpaired  on  'change.  The  demands 
of  the  kingdom  of  God  admit  of  no  division 
of  purpose,  no  half  interest,  no  looking  back. 
Ploughing  is  forward  work,  —  all  in  advance. 
Each  of  us  has  a  furrow  to  cut  through  that  sec- 
tion of  the  kingdom  of  God  which  includes  our 
lives.  There  is  no  call,  there  is  no  time,  to  look 
back. 

And,  as  a  consequence,  when  you  enter  your 
plough  in  this  spirit  of  entire  committal,  you  agree 
to  take  whatever  comes  in  the  line  of  your  plough- 
ing, and  to  plough  through  it  or  round  it,  and  in 
no  case  to  turn  back  because  of  it.  As  I  have 
said  before,  the  kingdom  of  God  is  full  of  sur- 
prises ;  and  you  will  come  upon  a  good  many  un- 
expected things,  and  things  as  hard  as  they  are 


182      THE  PLOUGH  AND  THE  KINGDOM. 

unexpected.  Your  plough  will  often  strike  a 
rock  under  the  greenest  turf,  and  just  where  you 
thought  the  ploughing  was  going  to  be  easiest. 
Your  ploughing  will  not  always  lie  on  straight 
lines,  either.  There  are  curved  as  well  as  straight 
lines  in  God's  plans,  ends  reached  by  indirection 
as  well  as  directly.  A  farmer  likes  to  cut  straight 
furrows,  and  to  make  a  handsome-looking  field 
with  the  straight  parallels ;  but  God  is  more  con- 
cerned about  our  making  a  fruitful  field  than  a 
handsome  one,  and  will  not  always  let  us  follow 
the  straight  lines  of  our  plans.  Any  way,  straight 
or  crooked,  you  commit  yourself  to  take  what 
comes.  It  is  no  part  of  your  business  or  mine  in 
God's  kingdom  to  make  our  conditions.  When 
you  give  yourself  to  Christ,  and  enter  your  plough 
in  his  field,  he  arranges  the  conditions,  and  bids 
you  work  them  out.  If  the  conditions  are  to  be 
changed,  the  right  change  will  develop  in  faithful 
working  out.  I  remember  once,  when  travelling 
among  the  Spanish  mountains  in  the  midst  of  one 
of  the  loveliest  scenes  I  ever  beheld,  my  eye  rested 
on  a  little  tract  on  the  side  of  a  savage  height. 
The  patch  was  literally  sown  with  rocks,  and  yet 
it  had  been  most  carefully  ploughed.  I  suppose 
there  was  not  a  furrow  in  it  that  ran  straight  for 
five  feet  at  a  time ;  but  the  ploughman  had  not 
looked  back.  He  had  ploughed  on,  round  the 
rocks  and  between  them.  It  was  a  good,  thorough 
piece  of  work.  So  God  selects  the  field  for  us,  with 
its  conditions,  —  rocks  in  one  man's  field,  stumps 
in   another's.     The  simple  question  is.  Shall  we 


THE  PLOUGH  AND  THE  KINGDOM.      183 

plough  that  field?  God  does  not  take  away  the 
stumps  and  rocks :  what  we  do  with  them  answers 
the  question  whether  or  not  we  are  fit  for  the 
kingdom  of  God.  Last  week  there  came  into  my 
study  a  pastor  of  many  years'  standing,  —  a  faith- 
ful, able,  useful  servant  of  God.  I  remember 
when  I  first  heard  him,  over  twenty-five  years 
ago,  when  he  stood  before  a  great  audience  in  the 
vigor  of  his  early  manhood,  his  hair  black  as  a 
raven's  wing.  I  remember  how  he  woke  the  audi- 
ence irom  the  lethargy  of  a  summer  noon,  and 
swayed  them  with  his  wise  and  bright  words ;  and 
his  speech  that  day  stands  out  in  my  memory  as 
one  of  the  most  telling  and  brilliant  I  ever  heard. 
And  he  sat  with  me  last  week,  the  fire  dimmed  in 
his  eye,  his  hair  white  as  the  driven  snow,  and 
went  over  a  part  of  his  history,  —  told  of  sickness 
and  prostration,  of  burdens  lifted  in  struggling 
churches,  of  divisions  and  dissensions  among  his 
people,  of  final  success,  and  peaceful,  happy  minis- 
trations in  a  thriving  church  saved  and  established 
by  his  labor  and  sacrifice  ;  and  he  brought  down 
his  hand  with  emphasis  as  he  said,  "I  have  learned 
this  one  thing  through  it  all,  that  God 's  work  is 
bound  to  go  on  anyivay  ;  and  that  the  only  thing  for 
us  to  do,  is  to  stand  in  our  place,  and  do  our  ivork, 
whatever  comesy 

And,  my  brethren,  you  all  know  something  about 
this  in  your  own  lives.  You  have  all  felt  the  jar 
when  the  plough  struck  a  stone.  Not  one  of  you 
has  been  able  to  make  straight  furrows  always. 
Not  one  of  you  who  has  tried  to  serve  God  faith- 


184      THE  TLOUGH  AND  THE  KINGDOM. 

fully  but  has  come  to  something  in  his  ploughing 
which  tempted  him  to  look  back ;  but  the  only 
thing  for  any  of  us  to  do,  is  to  stand  in  our  place, 
and  do  our  work.  There  is  no  such  thing  as  fail- 
ure of  faithful  work  in  God's  kingdom ;  and  the 
simple  reason  of  that  is,  because  it  is  in  God's 
kingdom  and  not  man's ;  and  God's  kingdom  must 
come,  and  his  will  must  and  will  be  done  in  earth 
as  it  is  in  heaven ;  "  He  that  goeth  forth  weeping 
and  bearing  precious  seed,  shall  doubtless  come  again 
with  rejoicing,  bringing  his  sheaves  with  him." 

The  text  presents  to  us  a  question  of  the  pres- 
ent, a  jiresent  responsibility.  It  is  not  a  question 
whether  you  will  be  fit  for  heaven  by  and  by,  but 
whether,  by  absolute  and  entire  committal  to 
Christ,  you  are  fit  for  the  service  of  the  kingdom 
here  and  now.  Not  one  of  us  will  venture  to  say 
positively  that  he  is  fit  for  the  kingdom.  God 
works  out  the  problem  of  his  kingdom  on  earth  by 
the  hands  of  imperfect  men.  But  Christ  puts  to 
us  this  morning  the  great  essential  of  unfitness  — 
looking  back ;  a  divided  interest ;  a  half-way  ser- 
vice ;  an  attempt  to  keep  an  eye  on  the  world  and 
an  eye  on  the  plough.  Heaven  will  take  care  of 
itself,  and  of  us  if  we  only  plough  straight  on. 
The  line  of  the  furrow,  faitlifully  held,  will  lead 
out  inevitably  to  where 

"  Sweet  fields  beyond  the  swelling  flood 
Stand  dressed  in  living  green," 

when  the  ploughing  shall  be  done ;  and  the  re- 
deemed   shall   walk   with    Christ    by   the    living 


THE  PLOUGH  AND  THE  KINGDOM.  185 

fountains  of  waters.  Have  any  of  you  unfitted 
yourselves  for  to-day's  work  in  God's  kingdom  by 
taking  back  a  part  of  what  you  gave  to  Christ,  — 
by  looking  back?  There  was  a  time  when,  in 
the  first  freshness  of  your  consecration  to  him, 
you  were  ready  to  say,  "  I  will  follow  thee  whith- 
ersoever thou  goest."  There  was  a  time  when 
faith  was  firm,  and  love  burning,  and  labor  for 
Christ  a  joy.  Have  the  heats  and  languors  of 
life's  high  noon  paralyzed  that  first  enthusiasm? 
Has  the  noise  of  the  great  world's  striving  and 
revelry,  borne  over  the  field  to  your  ear,  made  you 
loose  your  hold  on  the  plough,  and  turn  longingly 
from  your  appointed  work  ?  Have  you  grown  cold 
toward  Christ  and  his  church,  sceptical  about  the 
outcome  of  Christian  work  and  the  destinies  of  the 
kingdom  of  God,  cautious  and  calculating,  and  dis- 
posed to  spare  self  as  much  as  may  be  ?  If  that  be 
so,  —  which  God  forbid  !  —  the  Saviour  meets  you 
this  day  with  the  warning,  "  No  man,  having  put 
his  hand  to  the  plough,  and  looking  back,  is  fit  for 
the  kingdom  of  God." 


XL 

JOY   AND   JUDGMENT. 


XI. 

JOY  AND  JUDGMENT. 

"  Rejoice,  O  young  man,  in  thy  youth  ;  and  let  thy  heart  cheer 
thee  in  the  days  of  thy  youth,  and  walk  in  the  ways  of  thine 
heart,  and  in  the  sight  of  thine  eyes  :  but  know  thou,  that  for  all 
these  things  God  will  bring  thee  into  judgment.  Therefore  re- 
move sorrow  from  thy  heart,  and  put  away  evil  from  thy  flesh  : 
for  childhood  and  youth  are  vanity. 

"  Remember  now  thy  Creator  in  the  days  of  thy  youth,  while 
the  evil  days  come  not,  nor  the  years  draw  nigh,  when  thou  shalt 
say,  I  have  no  pleasure  in  them."  —  Eccles.  xi.  9,  10;  xii.  1. 

PERHAPS  you  think  those  opening  words  are 
said  sarcastically.  "  Oh,  yes,  young  man !  en- 
joy your  life  ;  be  merry ;  have  your  jEling ;  you  will 
find  out  to  your  cost  what  it  all  amounts  to  when 
the  time  of  judgment  comes  round."  That  is  the 
way  the  words  have  often  been  interpreted,  and 
yet  nothing  can  be  farther  from  the  truth.  Our 
translators  have  slipped  in  a  "but"  where  there 
ought  to  be  an  "  and,"  and  have  thus  made  the 
preacher  set  the  joy  of  youth  and  the  judgment 
of  God  over  against  each  other :  "  Rejoice  in  thy 
youth,  but  know  that  God  will  bring  you  into  judg- 
ment for  your  rejoicing."  Whereas,  in  fact,  the 
judgment  is  put  as  part  of  the  rejoicing :  "  Rejoice 
in  thy  youth ;  and  know  that,  respecting  all  these, 
God  will  bring  thee  into  judgment." 

189 


190  JOY  AND   JUDGMENT. 

The  preacher,  in  short,  frankly  commends  to 
youth  a  joyful,  cheerful  life  as  its  natural  and 
proper  heritage.  He  means  just  what  he  says. 
He  does  not  invitu  youth  to  a  feast,  and  then  set 
up  the  skeleton  of  judgment  at  the  table  to  make 
him  feast  with,  fear  and  trembling.  There  is  no 
covert  irony  in  the  call  to  rejoice.  The  judgment 
is  brought  in,  but  in  a  way,  as  we  shall  see,  which 
ministers  to  the  rejoicing  instead  of  clouding  it: 
"  Rejoice,  O  young  maji,  in  thy  youth !  childhood 
and  youth  are  vanity ;  they  pass  quickly  away ; 
age  with  its  infirmity  will  come  ;  pleasure  will  lose 
its  zest ;  enjoy  the  beauty,  the  grace,  the  pleasure, 
of  the  world  while  you  may." 

Possibly,  these  may  seem  strange  words  from 
the  man  to  whom  we  owe  the  phrase,  "  Vanity  of 
vanities ;  all  is  vanity  ! "  And,  if  so,  the  strange- 
ness may  stimulate  you  to  study  that  old  book, 
from  which,  it  may  be,  you  are  repelled  by  its  hard 
and  dry  name.  There  is  nothing  dry  about  the 
book.  No  book  in  the  Bible  is  racier.  It  throbs 
with  life  and  feeling ;  it  is  full  of  ripe  wisdom ;  it 
is  one  of  the  most  consolatory  and  cheerful  por- 
tions of  Holy  Writ. 

Let  us  look  at  the  two  parts  of  the  text  sepa- 
rately, — joy  and  judgment ;  and  then  we  shall  see 
how  they  fit  into  each  other,  and  are  parts  of  one 
great  truth.  And  let  me  say,  in  advance,  that 
we  need  be  under  no  apprehension  of  finding  the 
stringency  of  duty  relaxed,  or  a  life  of  sensual 
pleasure  encouraged,  by  these  first,  hearty,  cheer- 
ful words  of  the  wise  preacher :  — 


JOY  AND   JUDGMENT.  191 

"  Rejoice,  O  young  man,  in  thy  yonth ;  and  let 
thy  heart  cheer  thee  in  thy  youthful  days,  and 
pursue  the  ways  of  thine  heart,  and  the  things 
which  are  seen  by  the  eyes."  We  are  not  listen- 
ing to  a  Christian  moralist :  nevertheless,  the  sen- 
timent is  Christian.  "Childhood  and  youth  are 
vanity ; "  that  is  to  say,  they  are  transient,  fleeting. 
"  Therefore,"  say  a  certain  class  of  religionists, 
"extinguish  their  natural  instincts  as  summarily 
as  possible.  They  are  transient ;  therefore,  they 
are  of  no  account.  They  are  '  vanity ' ;  therefore, 
to  enjoy  them  is  dangerous,  if  it  be  not  sinful." 
But  the  logic  of  our  old  preacher  takes  a  different 
line.  Childhood  and  youth,  or  youth  and  man- 
hood, are  fleeting ;  therefore^  "  Banish  sorrow  from 
thy  mind,  and  put  away  sadness  from  thy  body." 
He  evidently  does  not  think  that  the  brevity  and 
transitoriness  of  a  thing  is  a  reason  for  despising 
it.  Neither  do  you  and  I,  when  we  deal  with  ordi- 
nary matters.  The  rose  which  you  pluck  in  the 
morning  withers  before  the  next  morning,  but 
you  delight  yourself  with  its  color  and  perfume 
none  the  less  while  it  lasts.  A  summer  morning, 
with  its  dewy  freshness,  is  a  thing  of  only  an  hour 
or  two ;  but  you  do  not,  for  that  reason,  shut  your- 
self up  in  your  chamber,  and  refuse  to  breathe 
the  morning  scents,  and  to  look  upon  the  sparkle 
of  the  dewdrops.  Youth  and  fresh  manhood  are 
things  only  of  a  few  years ;  but  their  brevity  is, 
to  the  preacher,  the  reason  why  they  should  be 
enjoyed.  Those  have  done  infinite  damage  who 
have  set  on  foot  the  notion  that  youth,  from  the 


192  JOY  AND  JUDGMENT. 

moment  it  turns  to  religion,  surrenders  all  pleas- 
ure, lightness  of  heart,  and  robust  enjoyment ;  and 
such  teachers  have  been  betrayed  into  this  terri- 
ble and  fatal  mistake  through  their  failure  to  see 
that  God's  training  is  not  to  stunt  or  to  crush  out 
human  nature,  but  to  develop  and  elevate  it.  Our 
Lord,  Christ,  you  will  remember,  said  some  very 
severe  things  about  those  teachers  who  had  made 
religion  a  burden  instead  of  a  joy  and  a  rest  to  the 
people.  He  called  them  thieves  and  robbers,  who 
had  stolen  away  the  blessedness  from  life,  and  had 
tried  to  make  it  as  small  and  lean  a  thing  as  possi* 
ble ;  whereas,  "  I,"  said  he,  "  came  that  they  may 
have  life,  and  may  have  it  abundantly."  Some 
people  reason  as  if  Christ  had  come  only  to  reveal 
another  life,  whereas  he  came  also  to  teach  men 
how  to  make  the  most  and  best  of  this  life  at  every 
stage.  When  a  man  is  rooted  and  grounded  in 
the  love  of  Christ,  Paul  tells  us  he  grows  up,  not 
into  a  cherub  or  an  archangel,  but  into  a  perfect 
man;  and  the  pattern  of  this  manhood  is  Christ. 
What  the  forces  of  Nature  may  do  with  the  rose 
after  it  has  withered  and  dropped  from  the  stem, 
into  what  new  combinations,  or  into  what  new 
forms  of  life  its  juices  and  fibre  may  enter,  is  a 
distinct  question.  Meanwhile,  to-day  the  forces  of 
Nature  are  all  concentrating  themselves  to  make  a 
perfect  rose.  What  you  and  I  may  be  after  death 
is  indeed  an  interesting  and  a  vital  question ;  but 
it  does  not  set  aside  that  other  question,  —  how  to 
make  the  best  and  most  of  this  life  in  all  its  stages. 
These  successive  stages  of  life  are  not  independoit. 


JOY  AND   JUDGMENT.  193 

Childhood  perpetuates  its  quality  in  youth,  and 
youth  in  manhood,  and  manhood  again  in  age. 
You  realize  the  divine  ideal  of  manhood  to  the 
degree  in  which  you  are  true  to  the  divine  ideal 
of  youth :  "  Remember  thy  Creator  in  the  days  of 
thy  youth.'"  Youth  is  pointed  back  to  his  creation. 
What  stamp  did  the  Creator  set  upon  it  ?  What 
provision  did  he  make  for  youth  ?  What  did  he 
mean  youth  to  be  ?  Obedient,  reverent,  pure,  dili- 
gent, —  all  that  certainly ;  yet  as  certainly  fresh, 
joyous,  vigorous.  Remember  thy  Creator,  to  be 
in  youth  what  he  meant  thee  to  be  then.  God  has 
an  ideal  for  the  blossom  as  well  as  for  the  fruit, 
and  the  best  fruit  comes  through  the  best-devel- 
oped blossom.  The  work  of  Christ  the  Redeemer 
does  not  contradict  the  work  of  God  the  Creator. 
God  made  man  in  his  own  image.  Christ  comes 
to  bring  out  that  image  in  men ;  and  Christ  set  it 
on  childhood  and  youth  no  less  than  on  manhood ; 
and  God  put  into  humanity,  perceptions  of  beauty, 
the  sense  of  humor,  the  love  of  society,  suscepti- 
bility to  harmony  and  color ;  and  to  develop  God's 
image  is  not  to  crush  out  these  faculties,  but  to 
learn  to  use  them.  God  knows  that  these  facul- 
ties are  freshest  and  keenest  in  yoiith,  —  that  joy 
is  native  to  youth  as  blossoms  to  spring.  And 
the  type  of  youth  is  not,  therefore,  the  old  man, 
burdened  with  cares,  tired  of  the  world,  and  sad- 
dened by  experience.  A  joyless  youth  is  as  unnat- 
ural as  ice  in  August :  "  Rejoice,  O  young  man,  in 
thy  youth." 

It  may  be  said,  "At  any  rate,  this  aspect  of  the 


194  JOY  AND  JUDGMENT. 

truth  does  not  need  pressing  in  our  day,  and  it 
were  better  to  warn  youth  against  the  coming 
judgment."  And  it  seems  to  be  assumed,  more- 
over, that  there  is  an  antagonism  between  these 
two  ideas  of  joy  and  judgment ;  that  the  one  ex- 
cludes the  other ;  that  the  thought  of  judgment  is 
enough  of  itself  to  quench  all  rejoicing  in  youth. 
But  the  peculiarity  of  our  text  is,  that  it  rejects 
this  antagonism,  and  makes  this  coming  judgment 
a  cause  of  rejoicing  —  a  stimulant  of  the  joy  of 
youth  as  well  as  a  warning :  "  Rejoice,  and  know 
that  God  will  bring  thee  into  judgment.  Banish, 
therefore,  sorrow  from  thy  mind,  and  put  away 
sadness  from  thy  body." 

Whenever  this  book  may  have  been  written,  we 
find  in  it  numerous  allusions  to  a  state  of  society 
which  give  these  words  about  a  future  judgment 
a  peculiar  meaning  and  force;  for  the  book  depicts 
a  society  under  a  capricious  despotism,  with  all  its 
corruptions  and  miseries.  The  grandees  revel  in 
palaces,  vineyards,  and  pleasure-grounds ;  kings  are 
childish,  and  princes  given  to  revelry  and  drunken- 
ness ;  fools  are  uplifted,  and  noble  men  degraded ; 
riches  are  not  for  the  intelligent,  or  favor  for  the 
learned ;  to  become  rich  is  to  multiply  extortions  ; 
life  stands  at  the  caprice  of  power ;  sensuality  runs 
riot.  "  In  short,  the  whole  political  fabric  was 
falling  into  disrepair  and  decay,  the  rain  leaking 
through  the  rotting  roof;  while  the  miserable  peo- 
ple were  ground  down  with  ruinous  exactions,  in 
order  that  the  rulers  might  revel  on  undisturbed." 
And  as  the  book  reveals  this  fearful  social  con- 


JOY  AND   JUDGMENT.  195 

dition,  so,  likewise,  it  gives  expression  to  the  tem- 
per which  grows  up  in  men's  minds  after  a  long 
course  of  such  oppressions,  —  a  kind  of  fatalism  and 
hopelessness  which  tempts  one  to  yield  passively 
to  the  current  of  affairs ;  to  believe  that  God  has 
ceased  to  rule,  and  that  order  and  right  have  van- 
ished from  the  world;  to  snatch  at  every  pleas- 
ure ;  to  drown  care  in  sensuality,  rather  than  try  to 
maintain  an  integrity  which  is  sure  to  he  rewarded 
with  personal  and  social  ruin.  That  kind  of  tem- 
per, if  it  once  gained  headway,  would  affect  all 
classes  and  ages.  In  the  nobler  and  better-seasoned 
characters,  it  would  become  a  proud  despair ;  in 
vulgar  minds,  a  bestial  greed,  and  an  untrammeled 
selfishness ;  in  youth,  a  prompter  to  unbounded 
sensuality. 

You  can  see,  therefore,  what  a  powerful  antidote 
to  this  temper  would  be  furnished  by  the  truth  of 
a  future  judgment.  Once  lodge  firmly  the  truth 
that  men  are  moving  on  through  all  the  hard 
and  bitter  and  unjust  conditions  of  their  time  to  a 
supreme  tribunal,  and  yoii  have  made  it  impossi- 
ble to  believe  that  the  world  is  lawless.  A  final 
judgment  implies  a  law ;  and  a  law  implies  a  law- 
giver, and  an  authority  to  administer  and  vindicate 
the  law.  Thus  the  truth  carries  with  it  both  com- 
fort and  obligation.  There  is  a  divine  order  in  the 
world ;  we  are  not  finally  at  the  mercy  of  chance 
or  of  men's  caprice :  the  order  will  vindicate  itself 
in  time,  and  with  itself  will  vindicate  those  who 
hold  by  it.  So  long  as  there  is  a  judgment,  wrong 
is  not  eternal,  and  retribution  is  a  fact.     There- 


196  JOY  AND   JUDGMENT. 

fore,  it  is  better  to  do  right,  notwithstanding  the 
"oppressor's  wrong  and  the  proud  man's  contu- 
mely." It  is  better  to  live  the  life  of  duty  and  of 
charity  described  in  this  chapter ;  to  cast  the  bread 
upon  the  waters,  though  it  seem  to  be  lost ;  to 
share  even  the  few  good  things  of  life  with  seven 
and  with  eight;  to  sow  the  seed  morning  and 
evening,  though  unknowing  whether  this  or  that 
shall  prosper ;  better  for  the  youth  to  curb  passion, 
and  to  hold  by  purity  and  truth,  and  to  cultivate 
duty.  There  is  an  order,  a  divine  order,  in  the 
world ;  and  an  order  carries  the  fact  of  judgment 
along  with  it.  So,  too,  it  is  better  not  to  give  way 
to  despair.  One  can  afford  to  be  cheerful,  even 
amid  oppressions  and  troubles  like  these,  if  the 
time  is  short,  and  a  day  coming  in  which  wrong 
shall  be  righted,  and  worth  acknowledged  and  fidel- 
ity rewarded. 

The  judgment  is  a  fact  which  confronts  us  as 
Christians,  —  a  fact  emphasized  by  the  words  of 
Christ  and  of  the  apostles,  and  still  further  empha- 
sized by  the  relation  in  which  Christ  puts  himself 
to  it  as  the  judge  of  all  men.  And  the  attitude  of 
even  our  Christian  thought  towards  it  is  largely 
that  of  terror  and  apprehension.  Turn  over  the 
hymns  in  our  own  collection  under  the  head  of 
"  judgment,"  and  this  will  be  evident.  The  key  to 
the  popular  Christian  sentiment  is  the  familiar  old 
Latin  hymn,  — 

"  That  day  of  wrath,  that  dreadful  day." 

Of  course,  the  terrible  element  is  there  in  large 


JOY   AND   JUDGMENT.  197 

measure.  The  element  of  solemnity  must,  in  any 
case,  dominate  our  thought  of  the  last  day.  It  can- 
not be  other  than  a  serious  matter  to  appear  before 
our  Creator,  and  to  give  an  account  of  the  deeds 
done  in  the  body.  And  assuredly  it  will  be  a  day 
of  wrath  to  rebels  against  God  and  to  rejecters  of 
Christ.  An  infallible  and  final  judgment,  which 
shall  pronounce  a  man's  life-work  worthless,  and 
the  man  himself  a  moral  failure,  must  be  woe 
and  terror  unutterable.  But,  withal,  the  truth  has 
another  side.  It  is  not  mere  fancy  which  sees  in 
the  Judgment  Day  a  day  of  consolation  as  well  as  of 
wrath.  That  other  side  is  recognized  in  Scripture. 
Turn,  for  instance,  to  the  ninety-sixth  and  ninety- 
eighth  Psalms,  composed  during  the  period  of  the 
captivity,  probably  the  same  period  in  which  this 
preacher  wrote.  What  a  glorious  outburst  of 
praise  is  this,  in  wliich  all  nature  is  summoned  to 
join !  "  Let  the  heavens  rejoice,  and  let  the  earth 
be  glad;  let  the  sea  make  a  noise,  and  all  that 
therein  is :  let  the  floods  clap  their  hands,  and  let 
the  hills  be  joyful  together  before  Jehovah ;  for  he 
Cometh  to  judge  the  earth.  With  righteousness  shall 
he  judge  the  world,  and  the  people  with  equity." 
Or  turn  over  to  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews,  and 
hear  the  apostle  comparing  the  terrors  which 
waited  on  the  giving  of  the  law  at  Sinai  with  the 
delights  and  privileges  which  attend  the  new  cove- 
nant :  "  Ye  are  not  come  unto  a  mount  that  might 
be  touched,  and  that  burDed  with  fire,  and  unto 
blackness  and  tempest.  But  ye  are  come  unto 
mount  Zion,  and  unto  the  city  of  the  living  God, 


198  JOY  AND   JUDGMENT. 

the  heavenly  Jerusalem,  and  to  innumerable  hosts 
of  angels,  to  the  general  assembly  and  church  of 
the  firstborn  who  are  enrolled  in  heaven,  to  the 
spirits  of  just  men  made  perfect,  and  to  Jesus  the 
mediator  of  a  new  covenant,  and  to  the  blood 
of  sprinkling  that  speaketh  better  than  that  of 
Abel."  What  a  group  of  joys !  what  a  catalogue  of 
privileges !  and  into  the  midst  of  these  is  thrown 
one  more :  "  and  to  God,  the  judge  of  all.''''  It  is 
not  a  discordant  note.  It  is  meant  to  accord,  and 
does  accord,  with  those  sweetest  of  all  sounds,  — 
Jesus  the  Mediator,  and  the  blood  of  sprinkling. 
The  Mediator  is  the  Judge,  and  the  blood  of  sprin- 
kling has  taken  the  terror  out  of  judgment. 

Why,  then,  should  a  man,  young  or  old,  have 
the  work  or  the  pleasure  peculiar  to  liis  age  and 
circumstances  clouded  by  the  anticipation  of  judg- 
ment? Why  may  not  the  young  man  lawfully 
rejoice  in  his  youth,  provided  he  remembers  his 
Creator  ?  The  mistake  is  in  divorcing  the  Creator 
and  Judge  from  the  joy  of  life ;  whereas,  God  is 
the  true  joy  of  life.  "In  thy  presence,"  says  the 
Psalmist,  "is  fulness  of  joy;  at  thy  right  hand 
are  eternal  pleasures."  That  does  not  mean  heaven 
only.  If  David,  as  seems  probable,  was  thinking 
of  the  future  state  when  he  wrote  these  words,  he 
was  equally  thinking  of  the  present  life ;  for  he 
says,  "  Thou  wilt  show  me  the  path  of  life :  in  thy 
presence  is  fulness  of  joy."  And  if  God  is  in  the 
life  of  to-day  as  Creator  and  Counsellor  and  Admin- 
istrator, he  is,  by  virtue  of  this,  in  the  life  of  to-day 
as  Judge.     If  you  and  I  are  moral  beings,  living 


JOY  AND   JUDGMENT.  199 

under  a  moral  order,  the  element  of  judgment  is  in 
to-day's  life  as  really  as  it  will  be  on  the  last  day. 
Every  day's  life  is  a  test.  Every  day's  life  brings 
us  to  the  bar  of  that  moral  economy  where  con- 
science sits  as  God's  assessor  and  deputy.  Every 
day's  life  is  rounded  with  the  approving  or  con- 
demning verdict  of  conscience.  God  is  not  con- 
cealing and  hoarding  up  his  judgments,  only  to  let 
them  break  forth  as  terrible  surprises  at  the  last 
day.  Conscience  anticipates  daily  the  final  ver- 
dict. The  moment  we  are  introduced  to  the  great 
ideas  of  right  and  wrong,  that  moment  we  are 
introduced  to  the  idea  of  judgment.  And,  if  the 
fact  that  God  is  our  Judge  is  in  itself  fatal  to  all 
joy  and  good  cheer,  that  fact  is  fatal  to  all  possible 
joy  in  God ;  for  God  as  Judge  goes  with  God  as 
Creator  and  Father  and  Friend.  He  is  Judge  by 
virtue  of  his  being  all  these.  Why  then,  I  repeat, 
should  the  young  man  not  rejoice  in  his  youth,  or 
a  man  of  any  age  in  the  conditions  peculiar  to 
that  age,  provided  they  remember  their  Creator  ? 
Whence  come  the  pure  pleasures  of  youth, — its 
hopefulness,  its  energy,  its  mirth,  its  sense  of 
beauty?  Do  they  not  come  from  God?  Is  he 
not  the  Creator  of  these  as  well  as  of  bone  and 
muscle?  And  if  these  gifts  are  recognized  as 
God's,  are  they  not  at  once  sweetened,  and  guarded 
against  abuse  by  that  very  fact  ?  Christ  tells  us 
that  one  office  of  the  Holy  Spirit  is  to  "  convince 
of  judgment ; "  that  is,  to  show  men  clearly  that 
all  sin  deserves  and  will  receive  the  judgment  of 
God.    Is  it  not,  then,  a  cause  of  rejoicing,  that  God 


200  JOY  AND   JUDGMENT. 

guards  our  pleasures  against  abuse,  that  he  teaches 
us  what  true  j)leasure  is,  that  he  sets  up  a  sign 
marked  "judgment"  at  the  border-line  of  excess? 
Is  it  not  a  real  cause  of  rejoicmg  that  God  restrains 
us  from  incurring  the  judgment  of  sin  ?  Can  that 
be  real  pleasure  wliich  ends  in  rebuke  and  punish- 
ment? And,  therefore,  when  we  recognize  our 
legitimate  pleasures  as  God's  gift,  our  joy  in  them 
is  heightened.  We  may  enjoy  without  fear.  God 
will  not  condemn  what  himself  has  ordained  and 
created ;  and  when  we  look  forward  to  the  great 
judgment,  the  eternal  life  beyond,  these  very 
pleasures  take  on  a  prophetic  character.  They 
are  foretastes,  earnests  of  something  better  beyond. 
The  pleasure  at  liis  right  hand  here,  promises  ful- 
ness of  joy  at  liis  right  hand  forevermore.  When 
we  have  learned  that  God  is  love,  and  is  with  us 
lovingly  in  this  world,  —  uith  us,  I  say,  down  here 
amid  these  earthly  conditions,  helping  us  in  every 
possible  way  to  enjoy  what  is  true,  and  to  do  what 
is  right  and  best,  and  not  far  above  us,  regarding 
us  as  a  critic,  and  seeking  only  to  find  fault  with 
us,  —  when  we  have  learned  this,  I  say,  are  we  to 
conclude,  that,  in  the  final  judgment  to  wliich  we 
are  moving  on,  God  is  going  to  throw  off  this  char- 
acter, and  appear  simply  as  an  inexorable  critic  ? 

"  Prepare  to  meet  thy  God !  "  We  hear  it  said 
in  awful  tones,  as  one  would  say  to  a  convicted 
murderer,  "  Prepare  for  the  scaffold !  "  As  if  meet- 
ing God,  the  God  we  name  "  love  "  and  "  father," 
were  the  most  dreadful  of  human  experiences. 
But  we  do  not  talk  in  that  wav  about  anv  human 


JOY  AND  JUDGMENT.  201 

object  of  love.  When  that  wife  or  child  or  hus- 
band or  brother  of  yours  has  been  long  gone  across 
the  sea,  and  the  despatch  is  put  into  your  hand 
that  the  ship  is  down  at  quarantine,  there  is  no 
terror  nor  sorrow  in  your  preparing  to  meet  them. 
How  your  feet  speed  to  the  wharf !  How  your 
eyes  are  strained  to  detect  among  the  crowding 
masts  the  first  cloud  of  smoke  from  the  steamer's 
funnel !  How  you  can  scarce  restrain  your  impa- 
tience until  the  ship  is  made  fast,  and  the  plank  let 
down,  that  you  may  sprmg  on  board,  and  greet  the 
object  of  your  love !     And  you  are  the  one  who 

sings,  — 

"  My  Saviour  whom  absent  I  love, 
Whom  not  having'  seen  I  adore." 


And 


"  On  earth  we  want  the  sight 
Of  our  Redeemer's  face." 


And  you  are  afraid  to  meet  Him  ! 

You  see,  then,  how  this  wise  old  preacher,  lifting 
up  his  voice  in  the  very  midst  of  a  horrible  and 
apparently  hopeless  social  condition,  found,  in  the 
fact  of  a  coming  judgment  and  of  a  future  life,  a 
basis  for  an  exhortation  to  hopefulness  and  cheer- 
ful discharge  of  duty  as  well  as  a  warning  against 
sloth  and  sensuality.  It  is  for  us  to  find  the  same, 
and  our  doing  so  depends  on  one  thing  simply : 
remembering  our  Creator,  early  and  late,  in  youth 
and  throughout.  There  is  nothing  but  terror  in 
judgment  if  God  be  left  out  of  to-day's  life.  There 
need  be  no  terror  in  it  if  we  take  our  Creator  and 
our  Judge  into  our  life  to-day  and  every  day.    Our 


202  JOY  AND   JUDGMENT. 

God,  into  whose  hand  we  put  ours  with  confiding 
faith,  is  not  going  to  lead  us  to  the  judgment-seat, 
only  to  dash  away  our  hand,  and  mount  the  throne, 
and  thunder  denunciation  at  us.  If  he  has  minis- 
tered comfort  and  pleasure  to  us  along  our  earthly 
way,  depend  upon  it  these  are  only  a  foretaste  of 
larger  comfort  and  perfect  rest  by  and  by.  To  him 
who  remembers  his  Creator,  the  judgment  will  be 
fruition  and  not  blight.  You  profess,  my  brother, 
to  live  your  life  by  faith.  Of  your  own  choice  you 
cast  in  your  lot  with  the  unseen  Christ,  and  staked 
every  thing  on  his  promise,  against  the  remon- 
strances of  the  worldly  wise,  it  may  be,  against 
temptations  of  worldly  policy.  The  great  feature 
of  that  day  will  be  the  revelation  of  that  unseen 
Christ,  and  the  consequent  vindication  of  your 
faith.  You  have  made  your  decisions  in  this  life 
according  to  his  tests,  —  tests  which  the  world  has 
pronounced  fanciful  and  fallacious.  You  have 
brought  your  dealings  to  the  standard  of  his  char- 
acter and  example,  and  have  judged  them  right  or 
wrong  according  to  these.  Then  He  himself  shall 
appear  on  the  throne  of  judgment.  All  these  cen- 
turies he  has  been  trying  to  make  the  world  recog- 
nize him  as  Judge  :  now  they  shall  be  compelled  to 
recognize  him,  and  to  confess  that  his  judgments 
are  just.  You  have  put  your  trust  for  salvation  in 
the  blood  of  the  everlasting  covenant.  You  have 
pinned  your  faith  to  a  crucified  Saviour  in  the  face 
of  philosophy's  reasonings  against  the  reality  and 
virtue  of  the  Atonement.  Jesus,  the  Mediator  of  a 
new  covenant,  will  then  appear  as  God,  the  Judge 


JOY   xVND   JUDGMENT.  203 

of  all :  your  faith  will  be  vindicated ;  and  the  cross, 
that  stumbling-block  to  the  Jew,  that  folly  to  the 
Greek,  that  symbol  to  the  world  of  degradation 
and  ignominy,  shall  stand  out  brighter  than  all 
Heaven's  morning  stars,  as  the  sign  of  eternal  vic- 
tory and  glory.  You  have  worked  faithfully,  and 
have  gotten  no  earthly  reward  for  it.  The  Judg- 
ment will  give  you  your  reward.  You  have  been 
misunderstood,  wrongfully  accused :  the  Judgment 
shall  set  you  right.  Your  heart  has  been  hot  over 
wrongs  and  cruelties,  cheats  and  shams,  which  you 
could  not  help.  You  shall  see  them  meet  their 
due  there.  You  shall  see  them  stand  in  their 
naked  vileness,  blasted  with  the  eternal  curse  of 
the  Judge  of  all.  You  have  had  sorrow  and  pain 
and  disappointment  here  :  little  of  the  world's  pity 
has  come  to  you.  You  have  been  tempted  to  think 
the  award  of  Providence  a  harsh  one.  God  shall 
show  you  then  why  it  all  was,  and 

"  Heaven's  eternal  bliss  shall  pay 
For  all  his  children  suffer  here." 


XII. 
SILENT   BEFORE   GOD. 


XII. 

SILENT  BEFORE  GOD. 

"I  was  dumb,  I  opened  not  my  mouth  ;  because  thou  didst 
it."  —  Ps.  xxxix.  9. 

THIS  psalm  is  the  utterance  of  a  man  in  trou- 
ble. It  thrills  with  a  strong  but  repressed 
feeling.  The  writer  is  striving  for  resignation,  but 
not  wholly  resigned ;  afraid  of  dishonoring  God  by 
a  hasty  word,  yet  longing  for  light  from  heaven. 
His  heart  is  hot  within  him  :  as  he  muses  over 
the  brevity  of  life  and  the  vanity  of  man,  as  he 
thinks  how  all  his  fathers  were  strangers  and  pil- 
grims as  he  is,  —  with  the  same  troubles,  the  same 
problems,  the  same  sense  of  desolation,  —  the  fire 
burns ;  his  soul  is  in  a  ferment. 

In  a  thoughtful  man,  trouble  always  doubles  it- 
self. Added  to  the  smart  of  the  immediate  afflic- 
tion is  the  moral  problem  which  it  raises,  —  the 
great  question,  raised  anew  by  each  successive 
generation  of  thinkers  and  believers,  of  the  reason 
and  the  justice  of  God's  administration  in  the 
world,  of  the  permission  of  evil,  of  the  tendency 
and  destiny  of  this  vain  show  called  life.  Every 
special  sorrow  or  disaster  is  a  stream,  setting  to- 

207 


208  SILENT  BEFORE   GOD. 

wards  this  unfathomable  ocean  of  thought  with  a 
swift  and  resistless  current. 

The  psalm,  I  need  hardly  say,  represents  a  famil- 
iar experience.  If  the  world  is  not  made  up  of 
great  tliinkers,  it  is  full  of  people  who  feel  deeply ; 
and  deep  feeling  is  thought  in  solution,  —  none  the 
less  so  because  they  are  few  who  can  precipitate 
the  thought,  and  crystallize  it. 

The  psalm,  as  I  have  said,  indicates  strong  re- 
pression as  well  as  strong  feeling.  The  writer  is 
on  his  guard  against  hasty  speech :  "  I  said,  I  will 
take  heed  to  my  ways,  that  I  sin  not  with  my 
tongue  :  I  will  keep  my  mouth  with  a  bridle,  while 
the  wicked  is  before  me.  I  held  my  peace  even 
from  good."  This  was  the  dictate  of  a  goodly 
prudence.  Conscious  of  the  excited  state  of  his 
heart,  he  was  afraid  lest  he  should  say  something 
out  of  its  abundance  which  might  dishonor  God  in 
the  eyes  of  wicked  men  who  were  watching  him. 
But  in  our  text  we  get  down,  I  think,  to  a  deeper 
reason  for  silence.  The  man  seems  to  be  so  over- 
come by  the  grandeur  and  the  mystery  of  God's 
dealing  with  him  that  he  is  forced  to  be  silent. 
Ordinary  sorrow  tends  to  vent  itself  in  speech.- 
Some  mysteries,  which  present  a  point  of  light 
here  and  there,  we  discuss ;  we  find  a  kind  of  sat- 
isfaction in  comparing  views,  and  suggesting  pos- 
sible solutions :  but  now  and  then  we  are  brought 
face  to  face  with  a  tremendous  experience,  where 
we  instinctively  concede  that  there  is  nothing  to 
be  said.  God  has  done  it :  that  is  all.  The  thing 
gives  no  clew  to  itself:  we  stand  like  a  belated 


SILENT  BEFORE  GOD.  209 

traveller  before  the  closed  gate  of  an  Egyptian 
temple,  rising,  low-browed  and  grim,  under  the 
stars,  and  no  sound  answers  our  knock.  We  must 
sit  down  and  wait. 

This,  then,  is  the  simple,  stern  picture  of  our 
text,  —  a  man  in  silence  before  the  truth,  G-od  did 
it! 

It  does  not  seem  at  first  as  if  much  can  be 
worked  out  from  those  two  factors,  yet  let  us  not 
be  too  hasty ;  and  let  us  say  at  once  that  this  text, 
and  whatever  we  may  be  able  to  draw  from  it,  are 
not  for  an  atheist.  The  text  assumes  God  to  be  a 
fact,  and  further  assumes  faith  in  God.  We  are 
not  going  to  these  words  for  proof  of  God's  being 
or  of  God's  providence,  but,  taking  both  these  for 
granted,  to  see  if  we  can  get  out  of  these  two 
naked  facts  any  light  upon  the  relation  between 
the  providence  and  its  subject,  between  God  and 
the  man  who  is  dumb  before  his  stroke,  and  be- 
wildered by  his  mystery. 

"  Thou  didst  it !  "  In  the  first  place,  then,  it  is 
something  to  have  gotten  firm  hold  of  a  fact.  A 
great  deal  is  gained  when  the  sorrow,  however 
severe,  or  the  mystery,  however  dark,  has  been 
traced  up  to  God.  When  we  can  say,  not  some- 
thing^ but  someone^  did  it,  the  matter  is  greatly 
simplified.  We  have  no  longer  to  count  chances. 
Whatever  we  may  think  of  the  justice  or  the  rea- 
son or  the  quality  of  the  dispensation,  we  know 
its  source.  Our  questioning  has  no  longer  to 
range  about  the  realms  of  chance,  or  the  possible 
combinations  of  natural  forces :  it  is  confined  to 


210  SILENT   BEFORE   GOD. 

God.  The  origin  of  the  thing  is  fixed.  God  did 
it.  We  know  at  least  whom  to  question,  if  we  do 
not  get  an  answer.  Though  the  light  for  which 
we  are  looking  may  be  hidden  by  clouds,  we  at 
least  know  whither  to  direct  our  telescope.  If 
there  is  any  solution  to  be  given,  we  are  on  the 
right  road  and  in  the  right  attitude  when  our  face 
is  turned  towards  God. 

The  fact,  indeed,  reduces  us  to  silence ;  but  let 
us  be  sure  that  we  understand  the  meaning  of  the 
hand  that  is  laid  for  the  time  over  our  mouth. 
It  need  not  mean  that  God  is  rebuking  our  in- 
quiry, or  forbidding  us  to  pursue  it.  It  cannot 
mean  that  God  is  tantalizing  us.  It  need  not 
even  mean  that  he  intends  to  deny  us  a  solution. 
It  may  mean  that  he  is  putting  us  in  the  way  of  a 
solution.  A  teacher  sets  for  a  boy  a  hard  problem 
in  algebra.  The  boy  goes  resolutely  to  work. 
The  day  passes,  and  he  cannot  solve  it.  He 
takes  it  home  with  him,  and  works  at  it  there. 
He  comes  back  next  day,  and  all  day  he  is  busy 
with  his  problem ;  and  towards  the  close  of  the 
school-day,  with  his  face  flushed,  and  with  perhaps 
an  angry  tremor  in  his  voice,  he  comes  to  the 
teacher,  and  says,  "  I  cannot  do  it : "  and  then  he 
begins  to  talk  passionately,  to  tell  what  methods 
he  has  tried,  to  hint  that  the  teacher  may  have 
made  a  mistake  in  his  statement,  to  complain  that 
this  or  that  in  his  algebra  is  not  clearly  defined. 
The  teacher  sees  the  difficulty;  and,  as  the  first 
step  toward  clearing  it  up,  he  quietly  says,  "Be 
still !     Do  not  talk  any  more  !     I  set  the  problem, 


SILENT   BEFORE   GOD.  211 

and  I  know  it  is  right."  And  if  he  says  no  more 
for  the  time,  and  the  boy  goes  back  to  his  seat,  he 
has  gained  something  in  that  interview.  There  is 
power  in  the  thought  which  the  lad  turns  over  in  his 
mind,  —  "  This  problem  was  set  by  somebody  that 
knows.  INIy  teaclier,  whom  I  have  always  found 
wise  and  truthful,  did  it."  The  thought  that  there 
ma}^  have  been  a  mistake  in  the  statement  of  the 
sum  goes  out  of  his  mind,  and  the  matter  is  thus 
far  relieved,  at  any  rate  :  and,  under  the  impulse 
of  that  relief,  he  may  attack  the  question  again, 
and  successfully ;  or,  if  not,  he  will  gain  by  silence, 
by  restraint.  Let  the  teacher  speak,  and  let  him 
simpl}^  listen.  The  teacher  wisely  silences  him, 
not  to  check  his  inquiry,  but  to  bring  his  mind 
into  the  right  condition  to  receive  explanation. 

Just  so,  we  are  often,  in  the  presence  of  our 
sorrows  or  of  our  hard  questions,  like  this  Psalm- 
ist, —  our  heart  hot  witliin  us,  our  mind  a  ferment 
of  wild  questionings.  The  best  thing  for  God  to 
do  with  us  then  is  to  silence  us,  and  to  set  us 
pondering  the  naked  truth,  - —  God  did  it !  ponder- 
ing it  without  argument,  without  debate,  without 
remonstrance.  If  he  were  to  give  explanations 
in  our  heated  and  confused  state,  we  could  not 
appreciate  them.  We  may  think,  perhaps,  his 
reducing  us  to  silence  is  an  arbitrary  refusal  to 
enlighten  us  ;  but  we  may  possibly  discover,  after 
we  have  been  silent  a  while,  that  a  better  and 
ampler  explanation  lies  in  the  words,  "  Thou  didst 
it." 

The  most  remarkable  illustration  of  this  is  found 


1212  SILENT  BEFORE   GOD. 

in  the  Book  of  Job.  To  appreciate  it  fully,  we 
need  to  study  the  entire  book,  and  to  follow  its 
wonderful  development  to  its  conclusion.  Job 
was  confronted  at  once  with  the  most  terrible 
affliction,  and  with  the  profoundest  and  most  per- 
plexing of  moral  problems.  The  two  were  inter- 
twined: the  problem  grew  out  of  the  affliction, 
and  the  affliction  aggravated  the  problem.  He 
had  been  a  just  and  God-fearing  man.  He  had 
been  a  prosperous  man,  and  he  never  had  thought 
of  questioning  that  his  prosperity  was  the  reward 
of  his  piety.  That  was  the  doctrine  of  the  cur- 
rent theology,  and  he  accepted  it.  Now  his  pros- 
perity was  swept  away,  liis  household  desolated, 
his  person  horribly  tormented  and  disfigured:  and 
the  logical  outcome  of  his  theology  could  only  be, 
that  he  was  being  smitten  for  sin,  as  he  had  been 
rewarded  for  goodness ;  and  this  his  friends  urged 
with  all  the  weight  of  their  wisdom,  and  with 
much  bitterness  and  unfairness.  But  Job  would 
not  admit  the  conclusion  of  his  own  logic.  Like 
many  another  man  who  has  all  his  life  passively 
accepted  formulas,  he  found  that  his  formulas 
would  not  stretch  to  cover  his  case.  He  was  con- 
scious of  his  integrity,  and  he  would  not  refuse 
the  testimony  of  that  consciousness.  He  would 
not  admit  that  he  was  being  punished  for  sin. 
But  then  came  in  the  other  and  greater  difficulty : 
"  If  not  for  sin,  then  why  ?  If  I  have  walked 
justly  before  God,  why  does  he  smite  me  thus? 
Is  he  a  just  God,  who  renders  to  men  according  to 
their  works?     If  I  have  sinned,  why  does  he  not 


SILENT  BEFORE   GOD.  213 

show  me  my  sin  ?  Why  does  he  not  at  least  ex- 
plain his  dealing  with  me,  and  vindicate  his  own 
justice  and  love  ? "  This  is  the  agony  which 
throbs  and  seethes  through  this  wonderful  poem, 
—  Job  trying  to  understand  God,  groping  in  the 
darkness  of  his  misery  for  that  presence  which  he 
dimly  feels  is  behind  it  all,  but  which  he  cann(3t 
grasp,  and  from  which  he  can  draw  not  a  word. 
"Oh  I"  he  says,  "if  God  would  but  speak,  or  let 
me  speak  to  him  !  He  is  not  a  man  as  I  am,  whom 
I  might  answer,  that  we  should  come  together  in 
judgment.  There  is  no  arbiter  between  us,  to  lay 
his  hand  on  us  both,  who  would  remove  his  rod 
from  me,  so  that  the  dread  of  him  should  not 
overawe  me.  If  there  were,  I  would  speak,  and 
not  fear  him.  I  would  address  myself  to  the 
Almighty.  I  crave  to  reason  with  God.  Oh  that 
my  words  were  written  down  I  that  they  were 
inscribed  in  a  book,  with  an  iron  pen  and  lead, 
cut  deep  in  the  rock  forever !  Oh  that  I  knew 
where  I  might  find  him !  I  would  press  even  to 
his  seat.  I  would  set  out  my  cause  before  him, 
and  fill  my  mouth  with  pleas." 

And  at  last,  after  he  has  poured  out  his  soul  in 
bitterness,  after  he  has  sinfully  impeached  God's 
justice,  has  fiercely  shaken  his  innocence  in  the 
Almighty's  face,  and  has  driven  his  ill-judging 
friends  from  the  field  with  his  indignant  eloquence, 
the  heavens  darken.  Even  while  Elihu  is  speaking, 
he  sees  the  spreading  of  the  clouds,  and  hears  the 
crash  of  the  Almighty's  pavilion.  God  clothes 
his  palms  with  lightning,  and  flings  his  flash  across 


214  SILENT  BEFORE   GOD. 

the  heavens  ;  and  out  of  the  midst  of  thunder  and 
wind  and  great  rain  comes  at  last  the  voice  wliich 
Job  has  been  hungering  to  hear.  The  agony  of 
the  great  debate  has  reached  its  climax ;  and,  as 
eagerly  as  Job,  we  wait  to  hear  the  words  which 
shall  answer  for  us,  as  for  him,  the  question  why 
Almighty  love  sends  suffering  upon  the  good,  and 
mystery  to  the  honest  inquirer.  And  what  do  we 
get?  Magnificent  poetry,  indeed,  in  those  four 
chapters,^  —  splendid  descriptions  of  God's  wisdom 
in  nature,  of  his  power  in  the  sea,  and  his  beauty 
in  the  dawn,  but  not  a  word  of  explanation  ;  no 
answer  to  the  question  which  has  been  torturing 
Job's  heart,  no  unfolding  of  the  how  or  why.  So 
far  as  that  is  concerned,  God  remains  silent,  and 
Job  must  still  be  dumb.  The  only  answer  is,  "•  I 
did  it.  You  must  take  me  as  the  solution  of  the 
mystery."  "But  that  is  no  solution,"  cries  one 
impatiently.  I  am  not  so  sure  of  that.  Job  found 
it  a  solution.  Job  was  a  thinker,  —  a  deeper  thinker 
than  either  of  his  friends.  It  was  because  he 
thought  so  deeply,  because  he  appreciated  the 
magnitude  of  these  awful  questions  of  Providence 
and  destiny,  that  his  agony  was  so  terrible.  If  he 
could  have  plastered  over  these  mysteries  with  cer- 
tain well-worn  sayings  as  deftly  as  Bildad  and 
Eliphaz  and  Zophar  did,  or  as  some  comfortable 
people  do  at  this  day,  he  could  have  borne  liis 
bodily  ailments  better.  But  Job,  out  there  on  the 
refuse-heap,  found  out  what  some  of  us  find  out  in 

1  Job  xxxviii.-xli. 


SILENT   BEFORE   GOD.  215 

our  familiar  lines  of  institutionalism,  that  there  are 
some  questions  larger  than  the  catechism,  —  some 
questions  which,  when  we  try  to  cover  them  with 
convenient  formulas  and  familiar  oracles,  have  an 
awkward  way  of  exposing  bare  corners :  and  yet 
Job,  thinker  as  he  was,  as  anxious  to  know  how 
and  why  as  any  modern  rationalist,  did  find  a  solu- 
tion in  God's  answer.  He  found  God,  and  that 
satisfied  him.  When  the  whirlwind  and  the  voice 
are  past,  Job  is  another  man  :  he  is  no  longer  the 
protester.  He  is  bowed  humbly,  penitently,  ador- 
ingi}^  contentedly,  before  his  Maker. 

Perhaps  there  is  almost  as  great  a  mystery  to  us 
in  Job's  satisfaction  as  in  the  process  of  his  trial ; 
and  one  reason  why  it  is  a  mystery  is,  that  we 
cleave  so  obstinately  to  the  position  that  satisfac- 
tion and  peace  can  come  only  through  our  knowing 
why  things  are.  There  is  a  nearer  point  of  rest ; 
but  we  overlook  it,  and  keep  our  eyes  on  the  far- 
off  cloud  behind  which,  as  we  think,  lies  explana- 
tion and  consequent  satisfaction :  and  God  denies 
this  fundamental  position  of  ours.  Firmly  and 
steadily  he  presses  our  attention  towards  the 
nearer  point,  which  at  first  seems  less  promising,  — 
that  satisfaction  lies  in  knowing  God  rather  than 
in  knowing  the  reasons  for  God's  dealings.  The 
compass-needle  swings  persistently  round  from  the 
reason  why  to  "I  did  it,"  —  from  the  philosophy 
to  the  fact  of  Providence.  Job's  comfort  came  out 
of  the  fact  that  he  had  found  God.  His  friends 
had  been  prating  to  him  about  God's  character  and 
God's  laws  and  God's  methods ;  and  it  had  all  ^one 


216  SILENT   BEFORE   GOD. 

no  deeper  than  his  ear.  "  I  had  heard  of  thee," 
he  says,  "  with  the  hearing  of  the  ear,  but  now 
mine  eye  seeth  thee."  Oh,  what  a  difference 
there  is  between  knowing  about  God  and  knowing 
God !  The  reason  why  the  philosophic  spirit  is  so 
restless,  so  querulous,  so  hard  to  satisfy,  is  not  in 
the  extent  of  its  knowledge,  but  in  the  shortness  of 
it.  It  ranges  about  God,  contemplates  God,  studies 
God  from  without :  but  it  does  not  penetrate  to  the 
Father  in  heaven.  God  satisfied  Job  by  revealing 
himself.  The  sorely  tortured  man  did  not  find  ex- 
planation, but  he  found  something  better.  There 
was  a  wealth  of  comfort  and  hope  in  the  fact  that 
God  spoke  to  him.  This  he  had  been  craving: 
now  God  speaks.  He  is  not  indifferent  to  him  ; 
he  is  not  alienated  from  him  ;  he  has  not  been 
indifferently  looking  down  upon  the  sufferer  from 
the  far-off  region  of  his  divine  splendor  and  per- 
fect bliss.  He  has  done  this  thing ;  the  suffering 
is  of  liis  sending ;  he  is  in  the  heart  of  the  mys- 
tery :  and  so  it  was  with  Job  as  with  a  frightened 
child  in  the  dark,  conjuring  up  troops  of  phantoms, 
shaken  with  nameless  terrors,  —  when  the  mother's 
voice  calls  out  of  the  dark,  "  I  am  here,"  the 
child  sinks  into  quiet,  not  seeing  the  mother,  not 
knowing  how  her  presence  acts  to  dissipate  the 
terrors  of  the  night,  —  knowing  simply  the  precious, 
all-sufficient  fact,  that  mother  is  there  in  the  dark. 
"  Well,"  it  may  be  said,  "  all  that  may  do  very 
well  for  a  child  ;  but  a  reasoning  man  cannot  be 
disposed  of  in  that  way."  All  I  can  say  is,  many 
a  reasoning  man  has  to  accept  that  or  nothing. 


SILENT   BEFORE   GOD.  217 

After  all,  it  may  be  that  the  child's  satisfaction  has 
something  rational  at  bottom  ;  according  to  divine 
reason  at  least,  since  the  gospel  tells  us  that  this 
great  mystery  of  the  kingdom  of  God,  with  its 
hard  questions,  and  its  Cross  and  discipline  and 
tribulation,  must  be  received  as  a  little  child  if 
received  at  all.  Reason  cannot  compel  God  to 
answer  ;  and,  suppose  it  could,  would  man  be  the 
better  ?  Would  he  understand  any  more  if  God 
should  tell  him  all  he  wants  to  know  ?  Can  there 
not  be  a  better  gift  than  knowledge  ?  Surely  it  is 
not  unreasonable  to  ask  ;  since  it  is  clear  enough, 
that  the  men  who  know  most  are  not  always,  nor 
perhaps  often,  the  happiest  of  men.  Take  a  simple 
illustration.  There  are  certain  reasons  connected 
with  your  child's  education  or  inheritance  which 
constrain  you  to  live  for  some  years  in  an  uncon- 
genial and  unpleasant  place.  Neither  climate, 
scenery,  nor  society  is  what  you  could  desire.  The 
child  asks,  "  We  are  not  poor,  are  we,  father  ?  " 

—  "  No."  —  "  Could  we  not  live  somewhere  else  ?  " 

—  "  Yes."  —  "  Then,  why  do  we  stay  here  when 
there  are  so  many  pleasant  places  elsewhere  ? " 
You  cannot  tell  him ;  he  could  not  understand  the 
reasons  ;  but,  for  all  that,  the  lesson  that  child 
learns  through  your  silence,  through  being  obliged 
to  be  content  with  the  simple  fact,  father  does  it, 
is  more  valuable  than  the  knowledge  of  the  rea- 
sons. It  is  the  lesson  of  confidence,  of  tr.ust  in 
your  love  and  in  your  wisdom,  of  unquestioning 
obedience.  Even  if  he  should  make  a  shrewd  and 
precocious  guess  at  your  reasons,  that  would  not 


218  SILENT   BEFORE   GOD. 

please  you  half  so  much  as  his  cheerful,  unques- 
tioniug  acceptance  of  the  truth  that  you  love  him, 
and  will  do  what  is  best  for  him.  That  moral  re- 
lation between  you  is  worth  infinitely  more  than 
any  amount  of  intellectual  sympathy.  And  the 
very  foundation  of  true  character  and  success  lies 
in  dependence  on  God.  God  cannot  develop  the 
best  possibilities  of  any  soul  until  that  soul  is  first 
sure  of  him,  —  sure  that  what  he  does  is  right, 
simply  because  he  does  it ;  and  that  is  why  God 
lays  so  much  stress  on  that  lesson.  That  is  why 
he  so  often  brings  his  child  face  to  face  with  the 
bare  "  I  did  it,"  until  he  learns  to  find  in  it  his 
refuge  and  his  comfort.  That  kind  of  teaching 
may  not  make  philosophers,  —  when  it  does,  it 
makes  them  of  a  large  mould,  —  but  it  makes 
Pauls  and  Luthers. 

But  this  '"  thou  didst  it "  has  some  treasures  of 
knowledge  for  us.  Faith  is  not  ignorance.  Some 
of  you  remember  a  story,  by  a  once-popular  Irish 
poet,  of  a  Greek  youth  who  travelled  to  Egypt  in 
search  of  the  secret  of  immortality.  One  night, 
by  the  bank  of  the  Nile,  he  found  a  little  pyramid, 
seemingly  as  solid  as  the  rock  itself;  but,  as  he 
examined  it  more  closely,  he  found  hints  of  a  con- 
cealed opening,  and  finally  struck  a  spring,  and  a 
door  opened,  which  led  him  into  a  region  of  won- 
ders. And  even  so,  as  we  go  round  and  round 
this  "  thou  didst  it,"  which  seems  so  bare  and  so 
hard  and  so  unpromising,  which  suggests  at  first 
only  relentless  will  and  resistless  power,  it  begins 
to  open :  it  conceals  something,  and  we  begin  to 


SILENT  BEFORE  GOD.  219 

make  discoveries.  God  did  it.  Well,  then,  I  know- 
that  infinite  wisdom  did  it :  these  hard  problems 
of  Providence,  these  mysteries  of  society  and  of 
man,  — I  am  not  to  conclude  that  they  are  untrans- 
latable. There  is  a  wisdom  which  understands  the 
maze,  and  holds  the  clew  to  it.  This  tangle  of 
society  has  a  thread  which  passes  up  into  God's 
hand.  If  he  chooses  not  to  unravel  it  now,  there 
is  a  wise  reason  for  it.  If  the  tangle  is  here,  it 
does  not  follow  that  it  does  not  clear  itself  higher 
up.  Perhaps  this  mystery  has  a  power  of  training 
for  me.  "  If,"  says  a  recent  writer,  "  proof  were 
possible ;  if  God  could  inspire,  or  man  indite,  an 
argument  which  should  once  for  all  interpret  our 
life  to  us,  solve  all  its  problems,  dispel  all  its  mys- 
tery, —  it  is  still  open  to  doubt  whether  it  would 
be  well  that  we  should  have  it ;  for  the  mystery 
which  encompasses  us  on  every  side  is  an  educa- 
tional force  of  the  highest  value.  With  certainty, 
we  might  be  content,  and  we  might  rust  in  our 
content ;  but  with  mystery  within  us,  and  on 
every  side  of  us,  compelling  us  to  ask.  What  does 
this  mean,  and  that ;  and,  above  all,  what  does  God 
mean  by  it  all?  we  lose  the  rest  of  content,  to 
gain  a  strife  of  thought  which  impels  us  onward 
and  upward,  and  for  which,  in  the  end,  we  shall  all 
be  wiser  and  happier." 

God  did  it.  Then,  I  know  that  infinite  power 
did  it.  "Ah!"  you  say,  "we  know  that  but  too 
well.  The  stroke  is  on  our  hearts  and  homes.  It 
is  written  on  fresh  graves,  and  in  the  scar  of  dreary 
partings."     All  true.      But  has  power  no  other 


220  SILENT  BEFORE   GOD. 

aspect  than  this  terrible  one?  Shall  we  symbolize 
it  only  by  a  hand  hurling  thunderbolts?  or  may 
we  not  picture  a  hand,  strong  indeed,  but  open, 
and  pouring  forth  blessings?  "All  power  is  given 
unto  me,"  says  Jesus.  Yet  he  laid  his  hand  on 
blind  eyes,  and  they  saw;  on  the  paralytic,  and 
he  leaped  and  ran.  The  prophet  saw  these  two 
meanings  in  infinite  power :  "  Let  us  return  unto 
the  Lord ;  for  he  hath  torn,  and  he  will  heal  us : 
he  hath  smitten,  and  he  will  bind  up  and  revive 
us."  Infinite  power  to  destroy  must  imply  infinite 
power  to  heal.  Power  to  let  loose  the  flood  must 
be  also  power  to  say,  "Thus  far  shalt  thou  go,  and 
no  farther ;  and  here  shall  thy  proud  waves  be 
stayed."  And  the  power  which  turneth  man  to 
destruction,  and  sayeth,  "  Return  to  dust,  ye  chil- 
dren of  men,"  is  our  dwelling-place  in  all  genera- 
tions, yea,  to  everlasting,  —  the  power  which  can 
stir  the  dead  dust,  and  say  to  it,  "Return  to  life  I" 
which  can  make  us  glad,  according  to  the  days 
wherein  he  has  afflicted  us,  and  the  years  wherein 
we  have  seen  evil. 

God  did  it,  and  therefore  I  know  that  infinite 
love  did  it.  That  is  a  piece  of  knowledge  worth 
having  indeed.  Surely,  when  we  reach  that,  we 
find  the  rock  yielding  water.  Ah!  we  have  to 
creep  back  for  rest  into  the  shadow  of  love,  after 
all.  There  is  a  solution  of  mystery  and  sorrow 
wliich  is  not  by  logic.  Just  what  it  is,  just  how  it 
is,  you  and  I  can  no  more  tell  than  we  could  tell 
how  a  child  is  comforted,  even  before  it  has  told 
its  sorrow,  by  the  mere  pressure  of  its  mother's 


SILENT  BEFORE  GOD.  221 

arms.  Moses  knew  when  he  said,  "  The  eternal 
God  is  thy  refuge,  and  underneath  are  the  ever- 
lasting arms."  Logic  I  How  grimly  these  mighty 
mysteries  smile  at  logic !  Men  start  with  the  facts 
and  conditions  of  their  earthly  existence,  with  the 
things  which  they  see  and  know,  and  draw  their 
straight,  logical  lines,  and  think  they  keep  on,  in 
undeviating  course,  straight  up  to  the  region  of 
the  3^?jine  counsels ;  and  they  seem  to  forget,  that, 
just  as  a  starbeam  is  turned  from  its  direct  line 
by  passing  into  another  atmosphere,  so  the  line 
of  their  human  logic  may  be  strangely  refracted 
when  it  passes  out  of  the  denser  atmosphere  of 
man's  thought  into  the  high,  clear  region  of  the 
divine  thought.  No :  the  way  to  God  is  not  the 
logician's  way.  No  man  ever  reasoned  himself  to 
God ;  no  man  ever  reasoned  himself  into  submis- 
sion under  God's  strokes,  or  into  restfulness  amid 
his  mysteries.  The  child's  way  is  the  only  way,  — 
going  direct  to  him  who  did  it,  and  resting  in 
silence,  if  need  be,  on  his  divine  heart. 

And  how  this  truth  gathers  power  when  we  go 
to  this  text,  taking  Christ  with  us !  How  it  kin- 
dles under  his  touch !  God  did  it ;  and  I  look  up 
into  that  face  of  unspeakable  love,  with  its  thorn- 
marked  brow,  and  say,  "  Thou  didst  it.  He  that 
hath  seen  thee  hath  seen  the  Father.  I  am  in 
sorrow;  the  sorrow  is  driven  home  by  a  pierced 
hand :  thou  didst  it.  I  am  in  darkness :  the  key 
to  the  mystery  is  in  the  same  hand.  The  hand  is 
closed;  it  will  not  surrender  the  key:  but  thou 
didst  it ;  and,  if  I  may  only  hold  that  hand,  no 


222  SILENT  BEFORE   GOD. 

matter  for  the  key.  The  pierced  hand  tells  me  of 
the  loving  heart  behind  the  hand;  and,  if  love 
hath  done  it,  let  me  be  silent  and  content. 

My  brethren,  there  is  not  one  of  us  who  is  not 
confronted  with  hard  questions  in  his  thought, 
and  with  painful  mysteries  of  Providence  in  his 
life.  These  things  have  a  meaning,  believe  it. 
Ultimately  that  meaning  may  be  knowledge ; 
but,  before  knowledge,  their  meaning  is  character. 
Here  on  earth  their  first  meaning  is  not  knowl- 
edge. That  is  evident  enough  from  the  way  in 
which  they  baffle  our  inquiries,  and  refuse  to 
give  up  their  interpretation  to  our  intellects;  but 
the  moment  we  approach  them  from  the  side  of 
love  and  trust  and  obedience,  they  open  their 
lips.  God's  Tightness  is  our  first  object  of  search  ; 
and  not  with  the  intellect,  but  with  the  hearty 
man  believetli  unto  righteousness.  God's  adminis- 
tration stimulates  inquiry.  God's  dispensations, 
which  break  our  hearts,  will  set  us  questioning. 
We  must  question.  We  shall  never  cease  ques- 
tioning. God  never  meant  that  we  should.  But 
you  know  how,  when  astronomers  erect  an  observ- 
atory, the  first  thing  is  to  lay  a  foundation  for  the 
great  telescope.  Deep  down  in  the  earth  they., 
ground  the  massive  piers ;  so  deep  that  no  jar  of 
passing  wheels  shall  cause  the  delicately  poised 
instrument  to  vary  a  hair's  breadth.  Let  us  sweep 
the  horizon  of  divine  truth :  let  us  bring  to  bear 
the  most  powerful  lenses  which  learning  and  phi- 
losophy can  prepare  ;  but,  first  of  all,  let  us  have 
a  solid  foundation  for  our  telescope.     Our  intel- 


SILENT  BEFORE   GOD.  223 

lects  will  work  more  calmly,  more  discriminatingly, 
to  far  better  purpose,  when  our  hearts  are  at  rest 
in  God. 

Over  the  arched  gate  of  the  Alhambra  at  Gra- 
nada, there  is  sculptured  an  open  hand ;  and  over 
the  arch  just  beyond,  a  key.  It  is  said  that  the 
haughty  and  luxurious  Moors,  who  held  that  pal- 
ace-fort for  so  many  years,  were  wont  to  boast  that 
the  gate  never  would  be  opened  to  the  Christians 
until  the  hand  should  take  the  key.  Many  a  Prov- 
idence, like  this  fortress,  contains  within  its  rough 
walls  and  frowning  battlements  fountains  of  living 
water  ;  but  none  the  less  the  gate  is  shut,  and  the 
grim  bastions  give  no  hint  of  shelter  or  rest.  How 
many  of  you  have  been  forced  to  stand  silent  before 
one  of  God's  heart-breaking  mysteries,  and  to  con- 
tent yourselves  for  the  time  with  the  simple  "  Thou 
didst  it "  !  But,  O  my  friend !  stand  still  a  little 
longer,  not  in  wrath,  nor  in  despair.  By  and  by 
the  hand  will  take  the  key,  —  the  hand  "  which 
openeth,  and  no  man  shutteth."  The  gate  shall 
open  into  the  heart  of  the  Providence  ;  and,  behind 
the  stern  "thou  didst  it,"  shall  stand  revealed 
eternal  Jove  and  eternal  peace. 


XIII. 
A  LEPER'S   LOGIC. 


XIIL 
A  LEPER'S  LOGIC. 

"  And  it  came  to  pass,  while  he  was  in  one  of  the  cities,  behold, 
a  man  full  of  leprosy  :  and  when  he  saw  Jesus,  he  fell  on  his  face, 
and  besought  him,  saying,  Lord,  if  thou  wilt,  thou  canst  make 
me  clean.  And  he  stretched  forth  his  hand,  and  touched  him, 
saying,  I  will ;  be  thou  made  clean.  And  straightway  the  leprosy 
departed  from  him."  —  Luke  v.  12,  13. 

THIS  man  apparently  had  no  doubt  of  our 
Lord's  ahility  to  heal  him :  "  Thou  canst  make 
me  clean."  It  was  about  Christ's  willmgness  to 
heal  him  that  he  was  in  doubt :  "  If  thou  ivilt,  thou 
canst."  His  coming  to  Jesus  was  an  act  of  faith, 
but  of  incomplete  faith,  —  a  faith  which,  having 
grasped  the  truth  of  divine  saving  poiver,  failed 
to  grasp  the  collateral  truth  of  divine  saving  love. 
As  in  so  many  other  cases,  we  have  to  deal  here, 
not  only  with  a  single  incident,  but  with  a  repre- 
sentative case  and  a  general  principle.  The  prin- 
ciple is,  that  true  faith  grasps  alike  the  power  and 
the  good-will  of  God.  The  truth  is  laid  down  in 
the  words  of  the  writer  to  the  Hebrews,  on  the 
nature  of  faith:  "He  that  cometh  to  God  must 
believe  that  he  is,  and  that  he  is  a  rewarder  of 
them  that  seek  after  him."     The  leper's  imperfect 


228  A  LEPER'S  LOGIC. 

faith  represents  that  of  thousands  at  the  present 
day,  who,  without  any  doubt  of  God's  ability  to 
•help  them,  are  not  convinced  of  his  disposition 
to  help  them. 

Setting  aside  for  the  present  the  special  causes 
of  this  doubt  in  the  leper's  case,  we  see,  that,  as 
a  rule,  men  do  not  naturally  associate  love  and 
power,  and  that  they  believe  in  the  existence  of 
power  far  more  readily  than  in  that  of  love.  They 
know  little  about  the  nature  or  the  secret  of 
power,  yet  there  are  multitudes  who  admire  and 
trust  it  all  the  more  for  the  very  mystery  which 
envelops  it.  The  annals  of  popular  delusions  are 
full  of  illustrations  of  this.  And  such  people 
exaggerate  power.  Your  little  child,  for  instance, 
places  no  limit  to  your  power.  He  will  ask  you 
to  do  an  impossible  tiling  just  as  readily  as  he 
will  ask  you  for  a  sugar-plum  or  a  picture-book. 
It  does  not  enter  his  mind  that  there  is  any  thing 
his  father  cannot  do.  It  is  the  same  with  the 
masses  of  men.  They  are  little  more  than  chil- 
dren in  the  hands  of  their  leaders.  They  ascribe 
to  them  more  power  than  they  have.  Tliis  leper 
was  an  illustration  of  the  same  fact :  he  knew  lit- 
tle or  nothing  of  the  divine  nature  of  Jesus ;  he 
did  not  know  that  all  power  was  given  to  him  in 
heaven  and  on  earth ;  he  had  probably  heard  of 
some  wonderful  things  that  Jesus  had  done,  and 
hence  he  leaped  to  the  conclusion,  rightly  as  it 
hajipened,  but  none  the  less  irrationally,  that  Jesus 
could  take  away  this  most  terrible  of  all  afflictions 
if  he  would. 


A  LEPER'S  LOGIC.  229 

On  the  other  hand,  there  is  no  such  tendency  to 
exaggerate  love.  That  child,  —  to  go  back  to  the 
illustration,  —  familiar  with  love,  brought  up  in  its 
very  atmosphere,  compassed  about  with  its  tender 
ministrations,  —  that  child,  who  believes  in  his 
father's  power  to  perform  the  impossible,  is  scepti- 
cal about  his  father's  disposition  to  pardon  his  fault, 
and  will  hide  himself  when  he  hears  his  father's 
step,  and  knows  that  liis  breaking  of  the  vase  or 
his  upsetting  of  the  inkstand  will  be  found  out. 

Power,  somehow,  seems  to  create  distrust  in 
love.  Perhaps  it  is  because  the  world  is  so  used 
to  seeing  power  used  arbitrarily  and  selfishly  that 
power  seems  practically  to  exclude  love.  The 
natural  instinct  of  mankind  associates  power  with 
its  deities.  That  is,  perhaps,  the  fundamental  idea 
in  the  natural  conception  of  Deity.  The  African 
who  bows  down  before  his  horrible  fetich  is 
moved  to  that  act  by  the  belief  that  it  has  a 
strange  and  terrible  power  over  his  life,  and  his 
success  in  war  or  in  hunting;  but  the  familiar 
Pagan  mythologies  show  us  that  the  gods  were 
expected  to  use  their  power  in  the  interest  of  their 
passions  and  caprices,  and  not,  habitually  at  least, 
for  the  good  of  their  worshippers.  It  was  to  be 
expected  that  a  Jove  would  hurl  blighting  thun- 
derbolts, or  assume  human  or  other  form  to  work 
mischief  and  sorrow  in  the  homes  of  men ;  that  a 
Mercury  should  outwit  men  with  his  divine  cun- 
ning :  it  was  not  to  be  expected  that  all  this  super- 
human power  and  wit  should  be  concentrated  upon 
human  welfare. 


230  A  LEPER'S  LOGIC. 

Now,  it  is  this  very  error  which  the  God  of  the 
Bible,  through  all  his  administration,  has  been  at 
work  to  overcome,  and  to  put  in  its  place,  and  to 
get  lodged  firmly  in  men's  hearts,  the  conviction 
that  God  loves  them,  and  "is  more  willing  to  give 
good  things  to  them  that  ask  him  than  earthly 
parents  are  to  give  good  gifts  unto  their  children  ; " 
that  God,  in  other  words,  literally  puts  himself  at 
the  service  of  those  who  love  him.  But  this  lesson 
has  to  make  its  way  slowly  against  the  natural 
incredulity  of  which  we  have  spoken.  If  the  ques- 
tion were  merely  of  divine  power,  there  would  be 
much  more  bold  coming  to  the  throne  of  the  heav- 
enly grace  to  obtain  mercy  and  help  in  time  of 
need.  To  all  of  us,  God  and  power  have  long  since 
become  convertible  terms.  We  all  say,  instinctive- 
ly, when  our  needs,  our  sorrows,  our  sins  oppress 
us,  "  Thou  canst."  But  we  are  often  held  back 
from  the  throne  of  power  by  that  little  but  mighty 
"  2j,"  —  "  If  thou  wilt."  Christ  came  to  break  the 
hold  of  that  "  if,"  and  to  fill  the  souls  of  those  who 
seek  him  with  the  conviction,  so  well  voiced  in  the 
old  hymn  we  used  to  hear  so  often,  — 

"  This,  this,  is  the  God  we  adore,  — 
Our  faithful,  unchangeable  Friend, 
Whose  love  is  as  great  as  Ms  poiver, 
And  neither  knows  measure  nor  end." 

Another  reason  why  men  are  so  slow  to  associate 
love  and  willingness  with  power  in  their  thought 
of  God,  lies  in  the  consciousness  of  sin :  and  hence, 
strange  as  it  may  seem,  this  reluctance  to  believe 
in  God's  love  develops  along  with  right  concep- 


A  LEPER'S  LOGIC.  231 

tions  of  God  as  a  God  of  holiness ;  for  the  appre- 
ciation of  God's  infinite  holiness  by  man  reveals 
man's  own  imperfection,  tends  to  make  him  out  of 
heart  with  self,  and  to  fill  him  with  self-contempt. 
When  Peter,  as  the  story  is  told  in  the  verses  just 
preceding  this  incident,  saw  the  divine  power  of 
Christ  displayed  in  the  miraculous  filling  of  the 
net  with  fish,  the  first  result  was  not  to  draw  him 
to  Christ,  but,  on  the  contrary,  to  make  him  say, 
"  Depart  from  me ;  for  I  am  a  sinful  man,  O  Lord." 
And,  in  the  light  of  this  fact,  the  incident  of 
our  text  has  a  peculiar  force  ;  for  the  disease  from 
which  this  man  was  suffering  was  not  regarded  as 
the  most  fearful  of  bodily  ills  only.  As  you  study 
the  Levitical  code,  you  find  that  provisions  respect- 
ing leprosy  are  more  than  mere  sanitary  regula- 
tions. They  give  to  this  horrible  disease  a  moral 
and  typical  meaning,  as  a  representative  of  sin. 
It  was  a  decomposition  of  the  vital  juices,  putre- 
faction in  a  living  body ;  and  hence  an  image  of 
death,  introducing  the  same  dissolution  and  de- 
struction of  life  into  the  bodily  sphere  which  sin 
introduced  into  the  spiritual.  The  leper  was 
treated  throughout  as  a  sinner.  "  He  was,"  as  has 
been  remarked,  "  a  dreadful  parable  of  death." 
He  bore  the  emblems  of  death,  —  the  rent  gar- 
ments, the  bare  head,  the  covered  lip ;  and  in  his 
restoration  the  same  instruments  and  symbols  were 
used  as  for  the  cleansing  of  one  defiled  by  a  dead 
body,  and  which  were  never  used  on  any  other 
occasion,  —  cedar-wood,  with  its  well-known  anti- 
septic qualities,  a  symbol   of  the  continuance  of 


232  A  LEPER'S  LOGIC. 

life ;  scarlet,  a  symbol  of  freshness  of  life ;  hyssop, 
a  symbol  of  purification  from  the  corruption  of 
death.  Hence  you  can  understand  why  the  Psalm- 
ist, in  his  prayer  for  pardon,  says,  "Purge  me 
with  hyssop,  and  I  shall  be  clean."  Moreover, 
this  disease,  like  sin,  was  incurable  by  human 
skill,  and  entailed  upon  the  sufferer  the  penalty 
of  exclusion  from  the  commonwealth  of  Israel, 
even  as  it  is  said  of  the  holy  city  of  John's  vision, 
"  There  entereth  nothing  that  defileth." 

The  case  of  this  leper,  therefore,  gave  our  Lord 
an  opportunity  not  only  to  do  a  work  of  mercy 
and  love  upon  a  diseased  man,  but  also  to  give  a 
symbolic  testimony  of  his  willingness  to  deal  lov- 
ingly and  forgivingly  with  a  sinful  man.  Quite 
possibly  one  thing  which  led  the  leper  to  doubt 
Christ's  willingness  to  heal  him,  was  the  peculiarly 
horrible  and  fatal  character  of  his  disease.  Clu-ist, 
as  he  had  probably  heard,  had  healed  other  mala- 
dies, but  he  had  not  heard  of  liis  heahng  leprosy ; 
and  was  it  possible  that  this  thing,  so  terrible  that 
it  cut  him  off  from  the  society  of  his  people,  and 
caused  him  to  be  held  and  treated  as  a  dead  man, 
—  was  it  possible  that  Christ  would  be  willing  to . 
deal  with  tliis  as  he  had  with  other  and  milder 
forms  of  disease  ? 

And,  in  showing  that  he  was  willing  as  well  as 
able,  Christ,  I  repeat,  told  the  world,  that  as  he 
was  not  repelled  from  the  worst  form  of  bodily 
evil,  so  he  was  not  repelled  from  that  of  which 
this  disease  was  the  type.  His  word,  "  I  will,"  his 
touch   upon   the   leper,  said   to   those  who  were 


A  LEPER'S  LOGIC.  233 

watching  him,  and  to  all  who  should  henceforth 
read  the  story,  "  Nothing  stands  in  the  way  of  my 
good-will  towards  those  who  seek  me.  No  taint, 
bodily  or  s^Diritual,  holds  back  my  love  or  my 
power  from  one  who  needs  and  wants  me.  Him 
who  wants  me,  I  want.  He  who  is  willing  will 
find  me  willing.  Him  that  cometh  to  me,  I  will  in 
no  wise  cast  out.  There  is  no  if  about  my  willing- 
ness any  more  than  about  my  power." 

Here,  then,  we  see  Christ's  willingness  tested 
and  vindicated  by  the  very  worst  case  which  could 
appeal  to  it.  If  liis  willingness  did  not  stop  at 
leprosy,  it  would  stop  at  no  form  of  bodily  evil ; 
and  we  need  tliis  lesson  every  whit  as  much  as 
the  men  of  that  time  did.  The  only  Christ  for 
us  is  the  Christ  who  is  willing  to  deal  lovingly 
with  our  worst.  And  here  the  doubt  comes  in. 
To  repeat  what  I  have  already  said,  as  men  ac- 
quire true  conceptions  of  God,  they  get  appalling 
and  disheartening  views  of  themselves.  Like  the 
Psalmist,  they  remember  God,  and  are  troubled ; 
and  this  is  all  as  it  should  be :  only  the  true  mean- 
ing of  this  terrible  revelation  of  self  is  not  to 
make  them  afraid  of  (roc?,  but  only  afraid  of  sm, 
-^not  to  make  them  flee  from  God,  but  to  bring 
them  to  him.  And  it  is  hard  to  convince  men  of 
this  meaning,  hard  to  make  them  believe,  when 
they  once  fairly  apprehend  the  evil  in  their  own 
hearts,  that  that  is  just  what  God  is  aiming  at ; 
that  that  is  just  what  he  is  anxious  to  cleanse 
them  from :  that  that  very  evil  furnishes  the  best 
of  all  reasons  why  they  should  go  to  him  instead 


234  A  LEPERS  LOGIC. 

of  keeping  away  from  him  ,  that  the  very  vileness 
which  they  deplore  is  the  very  thing  on  which  the 
love  and  power  of  God  are  eager  to  fasten.  Hence 
you  often  hear  a  penitent  saying,  "Is  it  possible 
that  God  is  willing  to  receive  one  so  deeply  stained 
as  I  am  ?  He  receives  sinners,  it  is  said ;  but  will 
he  receive  so  great  a  sinner  as  I  am  ?  " 

And  the  same  thing  is  manifest  in  the  Christian 
struggle  after  conversion.  The  Christian  struggle^ 
I  say.  No  one  need  tell  me  that  that  seventh 
chapter  of  Romans  describes  the  experience  of  an 
unconverted  man,  or  at  least  of  such  an  one  only. 
Hear  the  apostle :  "To  will  is  present  with  me, 
but  to  do  that  wliich  is  good  is  not.  The  good 
which  I  would,  I  do  not :  the  evil  which  I  would 
not,  that  I  practise.  I  delight  in  the  law  of  God 
after  the  inward  man :  but  I  see  a  different  law  in 
my  members,  warring  against  the  law  of  my  mind, 
and  bringing  me  into  captivity  under  the  law  of 
sin  which  is  in  my  members.  O  wretched  man 
that  I  am  !  who  shall  deliver  me  out  of  the  body 
of  this  death?"  I  know  nothing  of  Christian 
experience  if  just  such  a  conflict  as  that  is  not  in 
active  progress  in  you  and  me ;  if  you  and  I  can- 
not say  with  the  French  king,  "Ah,  those  two 
men  !  I  know  them  well ;  "  if  you  and  I  are  not 
distinctly  conscious  of  two  forces  wrestling  with- 
in us,  the  one  of  which  makes  for  holiness  and 
self-denial  and  meekness,  while  the  other  pushes 
desperately  for  pride  and  self-will  and  pleasure. 
And  we  cry  out,  like  the  apostle,  "Who  shall 
deliver  us?"     Is  it  indeed  the  will  of   God  that 


A  LEPER'S  LOGIC.  285 

we  shall  get  the  strong  man  armed  out  of  our 
house?  Is  it  not  too  great  a  thing  to  hope  for, 
that  this  sin,  which  dogs  our  steps,  and  breaks  our 
peace,  and  fights  every  good  aspiration,  and  mines 
away  under  every  good  resolution,  shall  be  gotten 
under  our  feet  ?  My  friend,  Christ  is  willing.  That 
is  just  what  he  is  aiming  at, — that  worst  which 
is  in  us.  Paul  answers  the  "Who  shall  deliver 
me?"  with  "I  thank  God  through  Jesus  Christ 
our  Lord.  Sin  shall  not  have  dominion  over  you." 
And  now  let  us  see  how  Christ's  willingness 
comes  out  in  the  incident  of  our  text.  And,  in 
the  first  place,  you  observe  that  his  willingness 
is  not  repelled  hy  an  imperfect  faith.  This  leper 
believed  only  in  Christ's  power:  he  did  not  be- 
lieve in  his  willingness ;  he  only  wished  or  hoped 
he  might  be  willing.  Christ  did  not  turn  him  away 
for  that :  he  did  not  make  him  wait  until  liis  faith 
was  better  developed.  It  was  a  good  deal  for  him 
to  have  come  as  far  as  to  believe  in  Christ's  power. 
That  was  farther  than  the  possessed  boy's  father, 
at  the  foot  of  the  transfiguration  mount,  had  come. 
He  was  in  doubt  about  Clu-ist's  power.  He  had 
tried  the  disciples,  and  they  could  not  cast  out 
the  devil ;  and  so  he  turns  to  Jesus,  saying  doubt- 
fully, "  If  thou  canst  do  any  thing,  have  compas- 
sion on  us."  Christ  did  not  say  to  him,  "  Go  away 
until  you  can  believe  that  I  have  the  power."  He 
seized  on  the  possibility  which  the  man's  mind  had 
admitted,  and  sought  to  develop  it  into  faith.  "  If 
thou  canst,"  say  you  ?  "  All  things  can  be  to  him 
that  believeth,"     And  the  man  made  a  great  step 


236  A  LEPER'S  LOGIC. 

forward  when  he  cried  out,  "  Lord,  I  believe  ;  help 
thou  mine  unbelief."  Thomas,  the  Lord's  own 
disciple,  was  worse  than  either  of  these  two.  He 
wanted  sensible  evidence  of  his  Lord's  identity, 
and  insisted  on  it  in  a  most  unreasonable  and  dis- 
agreeable way,  at  which  Christ  might  have  been 
justly  offended ;  but  Christ  was  willing  to  give  him 
even  that,  if  he  could  only  be  brought  to  believe. 
You  find  illustrations  of  the  same  truth  in  the 
Old  Testament;  showing  how  God,  instead  of 
being  offended  by  incomplete  faith,  seizes  upon 
such  as  there  is,  and  brings  every  possible  appli- 
ance to  bear,  in  order  to  strengthen  it.  Even 
Abraham,  the  Old-Testament  type  of  faith,  asked 
for  a  sign ;  and  Gideon  asked  for  a  second  sign 
after  God  had  given  him  one,  and  received  it, 
with  a  third  one  in  addition.  God's  willingness 
is  shown  pre-eminently  in  the  means  which  he  uses 
to  strengthen  faith,  so  that  it  may  lay  firm  hold 
on  his  love  and  power.  Because,  after  all,  this 
willingness  has  a  law  and  a  limitation.  It  is  not 
the  reckless,  undiscriminating  kindness  of  a  foolish 
father,  who  gives  unconditionally  whatever  his  son 
asks.  God  is  willing  to  give  us  far  more  than  we 
can  ask,  or  are  worthy  to  receive  ;  but  then  he 
makes  faith  the  indispensable  condition  of  his  gifts: 
"  Without  faith  it  is  impossible  to  be  well-pleasing 
unto  him :  for  he  that  cometh  to  God  must  believe 
that  he  is,  and  that  he  is  a  rewarder  of  those  that 
seek  him."  Hence,  I  repeat,  God's  willingness  is 
shown  first  of  all  in  encouraging  men  to  believe  in 
his  willingness. 


A  LEPER'S  LOGIC.  237 

I  cannot  help  thinking  that  Christ  knew  of  the 
approach  of  this  poor  leper  before  the  multitude 
did.  The  man  ran  a  great  risk  in  coming  into  that 
company,  the  more  so  as  his  condition  was  evident 
to  every  one.  The  disease  was  at  an  advanced 
stage.  Luke  the  physician,  whose  eye  was  quick 
to  note  such  facts,  tells  us  that  he  was  full  of 
leprosy ;  and  yet  his  incomplete  faith  had  power 
enough  to  nerve  him  to  make  the  attempt  to  get 
to  Jesus.  I  think  the  gracious  Lord  must  have 
known  that,  and  must  have  furthered  his  effort 
in  some  way  of  his  own ;  for  that  was  a  case  after 
Christ's  own  heart.  His  compassion  made  him 
willing  to  heal  the  man's  body,  but  his  compas- 
sion went  deeper  than  his  body.  He  would  fain 
heal  his  soul  as  well ;  and,  in  order  to  that,  he 
must  develop  in  him  that  faith  without  which 
there  is  no  salvation.  It  was  much  that  he  be- 
lieved in  Jesus'  power.  He  must  be  taught  also 
to  believe  in  his  love.  The  case  of  the  woman 
who  pressed  through  the  crowd,  and  touched  the 
hem  of  his  garment,  resembled  this  in  some  points. 
She  believed  in  Christ's  power  so  fully  as  to  believe 
that  it  extended  to  his  clothing;  yet,  like  this 
leper,  she  seems  to  have  had  some  doubt  about  his 
willingness.  She  would  make  the  experiment  by 
stealth.  She  did  not  count  on  Christ's  knowing 
that  power  had  gone  forth  from  him ;  and  she  was 
confused  and  frightened  when  found  out,  as  one 
who  had  stolen  something ,  but  she  received  that 
day  something  of  greater  value  than  healing.  She 
learned  Christ's  heart  toward  the  afflicted.     She 


238  A  LEPER'S  LOGIC. 

never  again  would  steal  to  him,  trembling  and 
afraid,  after  hearing  him  say,  "  Thy  faith  hath 
made  thee  whole.     Go  in  peace." 

Christ's  willingness  was  shown,  further,  in  his 
express  declaj-ation.  How  striking  is  the  way  in 
which  he  meets  that  timid  "  If  thou  wilt "  with 
"  I  will "  !  The  man's  only  doubt  was  relieved  at 
once ;  and  not  only  by  Christ's  clear,  ringing 
words,  but  by  his  extraordinary  act  in  touching 
him.  The  leper  knew  very  well,  and  the  whole 
multitude  knew,  that  to  touch  a  leper  was  forbid- 
den by  the  law ;  that  a  man  contracted  thereby  a 
pollution  as  from  contact  with  the  dead.  But  here 
is  a  willing  helper  indeed,  who,  in  his  desire  to 
save  me,  will  break  through  the  ceremonial  law, 
and  lay  himself  open  to  the  inconvenience  and  the 
odiuiii  of  ceremonial  pollution.  And  let  it  be 
observed  here,  that  nothing  shows  the  good-will 
of  Christ,  his  real,  deep  desire  to  save  and  help 
men,  more  than  his  readiness  to  come  into  contact 
with  them.  It  is  well  for  us  to  look  at  that  fact 
from  the  stand-point  of  our  modern  habits  and 
tastes.  Neatness,  cleanliness,  order,  the  conceal- 
ment of  every  thing  offensive,  —  these  are  not 
merely  attributes  of  luxurious  living,  they  are 
cardinal  principles,  first  instincts  of  ordinary  liv- 
ing and  of  common  decency ;  and  it  certainly  is 
not  open  to  question,  that  an  exquisitely  toned 
and  susceptible  nature,  like  that  of  our  Lord,  felt 
the  full  power  of  these  instincts.  And  yet  no  one 
knew  better  than  our  Lord  the  power  of  those  very 
instincts  to  separate  the  coarse  and  ignorant  and 


A  LEPERS  LOGIC.  239 

diseased  masses  from  the  cultured  and  decent  who 
should  be  their  helpers.  He  knew  very  well  how 
readilj^  the  poor  and  unclean  man  caught  the  im- 
pression that  the  cleanly,  well-dressed  man  despised 
liim,  and  wanted  to  avoid  him.  And  the  Saviour 
would  never  give  room  for  that  impression  for  a 
moment.  Whatever  curses  the  ignorant  Jew  might 
vent  upon  him,  he  never  could  say  that  he  avoided 
him  because  of  his  povert}^  or  his  uncleanness.  He 
never  shrank  from  the  contact  of  the  filthy  rabble 
which  pressed  round  him,  thrusting  upon  his  atten- 
tion their  deformities  and  hideous  marks  of  disease  ; 
and  Christ's  contact  with  such,  Christ's  hand  laid 
upon  the  leper  and  upon  the  paralytic  and  upon 
the  squalid  children  which  poor  mothers  brought 
to  receive  his  blessing,  has  been  well-nigh  as  po- 
tent a  sermon  to  the  world  as  the  Sermon  on  the 
Mount. 

And  the  fact  takes  on  new  meaning  as  a  type 
of  Christ's  attitude  toward  moral  pollution.  As 
society  is  constituted,  our  contact  with  men  is 
regulated  very  much  by  outward  decencies.  We 
cannot  read  each  other's  hearts ;  and,  moreover,  we 
ourselves  are  simply  imperfect  men  among  imper- 
fect men.  But  here  was  the  purest  moral  nature 
in  earth  or  heaven,  one  who  knew  the  whole  mean- 
ing and  vileness  of  sin,  one  to  whom  the  shadow 
of  evil  was  horrible ;  and  yet  the  story  of  his  life 
is  summed  up  in  this,  that  he  laid  that  pure  nature 
right  against  the  world's  polluted  heart;  that 
he  threw  himself  into  the  midst  of  a  society,  of 
wliich   the   most   outwardly  decent   part  was  the 


240  A  LEPER'S  LOGIC. 

most  deceitful  and  corrupt,  and  touched  that  moral 
pollution  as  really  as  his  hand  touched  the  leper, 
in  order  to  redeem  and  save  it.  This,  I  sa}^,  is  the 
story  of  Christ's  life,  the  expressive  comment  on 
his  "  I  will "  uttered  to  the  leper,  —  "  The  Son  of 
man  is  come  to  seek  and  to  save  that  which  was 
lost." 

And  if  you  will  go  back  to  the  old  Mosaic  law, 
and  study  the  directions  for  the  purification  of  a 
leper,  as  you  will  find  them  in  the  fourteenth  of 
Leviticus,  you  will  see  what  a  beautiful  figure 
they  furnish  of  the  jDi'ovision  made  by  divine  love 
for  the  purification  of  a  sinful  nature.  When  the 
priest,  on  examination,  had  found  the  leprosy 
cured  and  gone,  the  patient  was  bidden  to  bring 
two  birds.  One  of  these  the  priest  killed  over  an 
earthen  vessel  containing  fresh  spring-water,  so 
that  its  blood  should  mingle  with  the  water ;  then, 
taking  the  other  bird,  with  the  cedar  (the  sign  of 
preservation  from  corruption),  the  scarlet  (the  sign 
of  fresh  life),  and  the  hyssop  (the  sign  of  purifica- 
tion), he  dipped  them,  with  the  bird,  into  the  min- 
gled blood  and  water,  and  then  let  the  bird  fly 
away.  The  letting  loose  of  the  bird  was  a  symbol 
that  the  former  leper  was  imbued  with  new  vital 
energy,  and  released  fi'om  the  fetters  of  his  dis- 
ease, and  was  now  free  to  go  where  he  would. 
The  slain  bird  showed  that  the  leper  would  have 
suffered  death  on  account  of  his  uncleanuess  but 
for  the  restoring  mercy  of  God.  As  we  look  up 
from  this  strange  rite  in  the  wilderness  in  the 
shadow  of  the  tabernacle,  our  eyes  rest  on  Jesus 


A  LEPERS  LOGIC.  241 

and  the  sinner.  Tainted  with  the  leprosy  of  sin, 
he  must  die  but  for  the  exercise  of  sovereign 
mercy,  —  must  die,  not  from  any  arbitrary  decree, 
but  from  the  essential  nature  of  sin,  which  poisons 
the  fountains  of  life.  That  mercy  is  exercised 
through  the  shedding  of  blood :  "  Without  shed- 
ding of  blood  is  no  remission ; "  and,  as  we  look 
upon  the  bleeding  fowl  and  the  stream  of  its  life 
mmgling  with  the  pure  water,  we  turn  to  the  cross, 
and  see  Him  who  came  by  water  and  blood,  even 
Jesus  Christ,  "not  with  the  water  onl}^,  but  with 
the  water  and  the  blood,"  which  we  see  flowing 
together  from  His  pierced  side.  As  the  symbols 
of  preservation,  fresh  life,  purification,  are  dipped 
into  the  blood ;  so,  as  we  look  at  the  restored  sin- 
ner, we  see  insured  to  him  eternal  life,  purity,  and 
vigorous  power  for  ministry,  through  the  touch  of 
that  blood  upon  his  soul :  and,  as  we  mark  the 
bird  flying  freely  and  gladly  away  toward  its  famil- 
iar haunts  and  companions  ;  so,  through  the  blood 
of  Christ,  we  see  the  sinner  set  free  from  bondage, 
called  unto  the  liberty  of  the  children  of  God, 
made  free  of  the  privileges  and  the  companion- 
ship of  the  household  of  Christ.  This  is  what 
Christ's  "  I  wnll "  means.  It  means  a  willingness 
which  takes  in  his  descent  from  the  glory  of  the 
Father ;  his  taking  upon  himself  the  form  of  ser- 
vant ;  his  being  made  in  the  likeness  of  sinful 
flesh.  The  "  I  will "  speaks  from  Simon's  ban- 
queting-hall,  where  the  sinner  meets  his  tender 
forgiveness  and  recognition  of  her  act  of  love  ; 
from  Bethany,  as  Lazarus  steps  forth  from  the 


242  A  LEPER'S  LOGIC. 

grave ;  from  the  shores  of  the  lake,  where  the  ra- 
ging demon  departs  at  His  word,  and  leaves  the 
victim  at  Jesus'  feet,  clothed,  and  in  his  right 
mind ;  from  under  the  olives  of  Gethsemane,  and 
down  from  the  cross  in  the  gathering  darkness, — 
from  these,  and  from  every  sinful,  penitent  soul 
saved,  during  all  these  centuries,  through  faith  in 
his  blood,  come  the  echo  of  that  gracious  word  to 
the  leper,  "  I  will." 

In  our  approaches  to  God,  we  must  clearly  rec- 
ognize the  truth,  that  God  has  a  will  to  bless  us. 
The  soul  that  cannot  be  convinced  of  God's  good- 
will by  his  gift  of  Jesus  Christ,  cannot  be  con- 
vinced at  all.  When  God  had  given  the  world 
Christ,  he  had  nothing  better  to  give  it;  for,  in 
giving  Christ,  he  had  given  himself:  and  hence 
the  apostle  well  says,  "  He  that  spared  not  his 
own  Son,  but  delivered  him  up  for  us  all,  how  shall 
he  not  with  him  also  freely  give  us  all  things  ? " 
If  that  is  true,  if  we  have  indeed  a  Father  who 
is  more  willing  to  give  good  things  to  them  that 
ask  him  than  earthly  parents  are  to  give  good 
gifts  unto  their  children,  —  why  should  we  not 
come  near  with  confidence  ?  Why  should  not  our 
lives  be  more  richly  dowered  with  spiritual  gifts, 
than  they  are?  There  may  be  one  within  the 
sound  of  my  voice  to-day,  penitent  .for  sin,  with  a 
contrite,  broken  heart,  desiring  to  find  Christ's 
rest,  yet  so  burdened  with  a  sense  of  guilt  and 
unworthiness  as  to  doubt  Christ's  ^dllingness  to 
receive  him.  Doubt  no  longer,  my  friend,  as  you 
hear  this  word  from  the  Saviour  himself:  "  I  will : 


A  LEPER'S  LOGIC  243 

come,  and  be  cleansed."  There  may  be  one  almost 
discouraged  with  the  fierceness  and  pertinacity  of 
the  conflict  Avith  inbred  sin,  tempted  to  give  up 
the  figlit,  asking,  "  Shall  I  ever  gain  the  victory  ?  " 
Hear  Christ  this  morning:  "I  will."  He  wills 
that  you  shall  conquer.  God's  good-will  is  on 
your  side ;  and,  if  God  be  for  you,  who  shall  be 
against  you  ?  What  excuse  can  we  possibly  have 
for  cherishing  unwilling  hearts  in  ourselves  in  the 
face  of  such  willingness  on  Christ's  part  ?  Depend 
upon  it,  if  we  are  cold-hearted,  bound  down  by  sin, 
inefficient,  worldly-minded,  without  power  against 
temptation,  it  is  not  Christ's  fault.  He  does  not 
will  to  have  it  so.  It  is  our  fault  that  we  do 
not  encourage  by  prayer  that  faith  which  he  has 
willed  shall  overcome  the  world.  Depend  upon 
it,  if  we  live  below  our  privilege,  and  are  content 
with  scanty  spiritual  gifts  and  attainments,  it  is 
because  we  have  not  grasped  the  riches  of  mean- 
ing in  his  "  I  will."  You  remember  what  Paul's 
concejDtion  of  the  will  of  God  toward  believers 
was,  —  a  conception  which  he  evidently  thought  was 
no  vain  dream,  since  he  distinctly  asked  that  it 
might  become  a  fact  in  their  lives  :  "  For  this 
cause  I  bow  my  knees  unto  the  Father,  from 
whom  every  family  in  heaven  and  on  earth  is 
named,  that  he  would  grant  you,  according  to  the 
riches  of  his  glory,  that  ye  may  be  strengthened 
with  power  through  his  Spirit  in  the  inward  man ; 
that  Christ  may  dwell  in  your  hearts  through  faith ; 
to  the  end  that  ye,  being  rooted  and  grounded  in 
love,  may  be   strong  to  apprehend  with  all  the 


244  A  LEPEK'S  LOGIC. 

saints  wliat  is  the  breadth  and  length  and  height 
and  depth,  and  to  know  the  love  of  Christ  which 
passeth  knowledge,  that  ye  may  be  filled  unto  all 
the  fulness  of  God." 


XIV. 
PKAYER   AND   PANOPLY. 


XIV. 

PRAYER  AND  PANOPLY. 

"  With  all  prayer  and  sujiplication  praying  at  all  seasons  in 
the  Spirit,  and  watching  thereunto  in  all  perseverance  and  sup- 
plication for  all  the  saints,  and  on  my  behalf,  that  utterance  may 
be  given  unto  me  in  opening  my  mouth,  to  make  known  with 
boldness  the  mystery  of  the  gospel,  for  which  I  am  an  am- 
bassador in  chains;  that  in  it  I  may  speak  boldly,  as  I  ought 
to  speak."  —  Eph.  vi.  18,  20. 

THE  whole  of  the  latter  part  of  this  chapter, 
from  the  tenth  to  the  twenty-first  verse,  turns 
on  the  fact  of  Christian  conflict.  This  is  a  fact 
about  which  Paul  has  a  good  deal  to  say  in  differ- 
ent parts  of  his  writings,  and  on  which,  evidently, 
he  feels  very  strongly.  Christians  have  a  battle 
to  fight,  an  enemy  to  overcome.  The  enemy  is  so 
strong  and  wily  that  no  human  power  can  re- 
sist him.  The  Christian  must  be  clad  in  God's 
armor.  Moreover,  he  must  be  armed  at  every 
point.  Nothing  less  than  the  whole  armor  of  God 
will  avail.  Not  only  so,  the  armor  itself  is  valuable 
only  as  it  is  entire.  It  is  of  little  consequence 
where  the  soldier  is  struck,  if  only  he  falls. 
Though  his  helmet  may  save  him  from  a  wound  in 
the  head,  the  enemy's  purpose  is  gained  if,  in  the 
absence  of  the  breastplate,  he  can  pierce  his  heart. 

247 


248  PRAYER  AND   PANOPLY. 

Christ's  purpose  includes  more  than  the  develop- 
ment or  conservation  of  a  single  virtue  in  man. 
It  contemplates  the  salvation  of  the  whole  man. 
God  desires  and  means,  not  only  to  keep  intact  a 
Christian's  faith  or  hope  or  zeal,  but  his  life^  — 
the  Christian  himself ;  and  a  successful  blow  at 
either  of  these  is  a  blow  at  that  life.  Moreover, 
the  Christian  qualities  figured  in  this  picture  of 
complete  armor  can  exist  and  thrive  only  in  com- 
pany. Hope  is  nothing  without  faith  ;  readiness 
is  nothing  without  hope  ;  righteousness  is  of  faith 
only,  and  is  nothing  without  truth ;  while  truth 
finds  its  highest  expression  in  righteousness.  Then, 
as  the  soldier,  however  well  protected,  is  useless 
without  his  sword ;  so  Clmstian  hope  and  truth  and 
faith  and  righteousness  get  their  highest  sanction, 
and  are  taught  their  appropriate  uses,  by  the  word 
of  God  alone,  —  the  sword  of  the  Spirit.  The 
word  of  God  and  the  armor  of  God  are  as  neces- 
sary to  each  other  as  the  captain's  orders  are  to 
the  armed  soldier  ;  in  short,  this  passage  of  Holy 
Scripture  will  be  of  little  use  to  us  unless  we  study 
it  entire,  and  possess  ourselves  of  the  unity  of  all 
the  parts. 

Consequently,  we  cannot  understand  these 
words  of  our  text  about  prayer  unless  we  see  how 
they  are  related  to  what  goes  before.  Prayer  is 
the  divinely  ordained  means  of  intercourse  with 
God.  In  all  that  precedes,  we  get  no  intimation 
of  the  personal  contact  of  the  Christian  warrior 
with  his  divine  Leader.  This  is  given  us  in  prayer. 
We  have  the  word  of  God  to  the  soldier  ;  but  in 


PRAYER  AND   PANOPLY.  249 

prayer  we  have  the  soldier's  word  with  God,  the 
contact  and  communion  of  soldier  and  general ; 
and  it  is  not  without  a  purpose  that  the  word  of 
God  and  prayer  are  brought  together  here.  The 
word  of  God  gathers  up  into  itself,  expounds  and 
interprets  Christian  truth,  hope,  faith,  righteous- 
ness, readiness :  but  the  word  of  God  becomes  a 
living  power,  something  to  strike  and  to  slay  with, 
only  through  the  living  contact  of  the  Christian 
with  Christ ;  and  this  contact  is  afforded  by  prayer 
only.  The  word  of  God  is  to  be  to  us,  not  simply 
an  object,  but  an  instrument.  It  represents  the 
aggressive  side  of  our  Christian  life.  The  world 
and  Satan  are  to  be  not  merely  resisted :  they  are 
to  be  overcome.  The  gospel  is  to  be  not  only  de- 
fended and  vindicated :  it  is  to  be  pressed  upon 
men's  acceptance.  The  truth  of  its  principles 
must  be  vindicated,  but  the  principles  themselves 
must  likewise  be  made  forces  in  society.  As  Chris- 
tians, you  and  I  live  to  impress.  Our  Christian 
character  is  not  merely  something  to  be  kept  in- 
tact :  it  must  also  prevail  with  men,  and  bring 
them  over  into  allegiance  to  the  kingdom  of  God. 
Hence,  it  is  not  enough  that  we  study  the  word  of 
God,  however  critically  ;  it  is  not  enough  that  we 
hold  it  in  our  memory  ;  it  is  not  enough  that  we 
are  kindled  by  its  poetry,  or  convinced  by  its  logic. 
It  must  pass  into  our  life,  be  hidden  in  our  heart, 
shape  our  character,  and  inspire  our  influence : 
and  this  no  mere  word  will  do.  Nothing  but  life 
can  impart  life  :  nothing  but  character  can  mould 
character.     The  Bible  is  chiefly  valuable  to  us  as 


250  PRAYER  AND  PANOPLY. 

it  expresses  to  us  the  personal  character  of  God. 
The  Bible  leads  us  to  God  ;  but  God  must  take  us 
by  the  hand,  and  lead  us  back  through  the  Bible, 
before  we  can  gather  the  best  out  of  it.  It  is 
prayer  that  puts  our  hand  in  God's.  Those  dis- 
ciples whom  the  risen  Christ  met  on  the  road  to 
Emmaus  had  read  the  old  prophecies  scores  of 
times ;  but  they  had  never  seen  in  them  what  came 
out  under  the  talk  of  that  stranger  who  made 
their  hearts  burn  as  he  opened  unto  them  the 
Scriptures.  They  knew  why  it  was,  when  they 
found  out  who  had  been  talking  with  them.  And 
one  of  the  strongest  proofs  of  the  need  of  prayer 
in  the  study  of  the  Word  is  the  fact,  that  so  much 
of  the  Bible  is  convertible  into  prayer.  How  many 
of  the  Psalms,  for  instance,  are  prayers  of  them- 
selves !  How  many  of  them  you  could  make,  with 
hardly  a  change,  the  forms  of  your  communion  with 
God  !  Indeed,  the  best  Bible-reading  is  prayer,  in 
the  sense  of  living  contact  and  communion  of  the 
soul  with  God. 

Now,  in  our  text,  the  apostle  describes  some  of 
the  laws  and  characteristics  of  prayer ;  and  these 
we  will  touch  upon  in  the  order  in  which  he  places 
them. 

First,  then,  we  have  a  suggestion  of  the  variety 
of  prayer.  All  prayer  is  the  same  in  essence ; 
but  it  takes  on  different  modes,  just  as  youi'  inter- 
course v/ith  a  friend  does.  One  day  you  will  sit 
down  for  a  long  conversation;  another  day  you 
will  simply  exchange  a  word  as  you  pass  each 
other  in  the  street;    again,  you  call  at  his  office 


PRAYER  AND  PANOPLY.  251 

on  a  matter  of  business,  and  the  thing  is  settled 
in  a  few  brief,  pointed  sentences.  So  with  prayer. 
It  is  not  all  asking.  Sometimes  it  is  only  inter- 
change, without  any  petition  at  all,  —  talking  to 
God  for  the  pleasure  of  communion.  Sometimes 
it  is  a  sharp,  short  cry  for  help,  like  Peter's  "  Lord, 
save  me ! "  when  he  felt  himself  sinking.  Some- 
times it  is  merely  the  aspiration  of  the  heart  to 
God  without  a  word,  sometimes  a  half-conscious 
sympathy  of  thought  with  God,  sometimes  a  for- 
mal public  petition,  sometimes  a  struggle  to  climb 
over  self  to  God.  We  are  to  pray  with  every  prayer, 
with  all  kinds  of  prayer.  He  is  not  always  the 
most  prayerful  man  who  prays  most  regularly  or 
most  formally  or  most  publicly.  Sometimes  more 
prayer  is  condensed  into  a  sentence  than  is  to  be 
found  in  a  whole  series  of  prayer-meetings.  I 
never  can  read  without  emotion  the  story  of  the 
good  old  German  professor  who  sat  studying  until 
far  into  the  night,  and  then,  pushing  his  books 
wearily  aside,  was  heard  by  the  occupant  of  the 
next  room  to  say,  ere  he  lay  down  to  rest,  "  Lord 
Jesus,  we  are  upon  the  same  old  terms." 

This  truth  is  brought  out  more  clearly  in  the 
next  sentence,  which  suggests  the  reasonableness 
of  prayer^  —  "  praying  in  every  season,''^  or  on  every 
occasion.  Some  persons  have  been  troubled  by 
the  familiar  version,  "praying  ahvays"  and  have 
asked  very  plausibly  how  it  is  possible  for  one  to 
be  always  praying,  if  he  is  to  do  any  thing  else 
successfully.  There  would  be  no  real  difficulty, 
even  if  this  rendering  were    correct.     Paul  bids 


252  PRAYER  AND   PANOPLY. 

the  Thessalonians  "  pray  without  ceasing,"  which 
is  even  stronger.  The  difficulty  disappears  when 
we  take  a  broader  view  of  prayer  as  including  the 
habitual  contact  of  the  life  with  God  everywhere. 
But  our  text  adds,  to  the  hint  of  varieties  of  pray- 
er, that  of  occasions,  which  call  out  these  varieties. 
Leisure  gives  opportunity  for  deliberate,  medita- 
tive communion ;  public  worship,  for  formal  suppli- 
cation, confession,  and  thanksgiving ;  dangerous 
emergencies,  for  sharp,  short  cries  to  God.  A 
stately  liturgical  formula  would  have  been  of  lit- 
tle use  to  Moses  at  the  Red  Sea,  or  to  the  Syro- 
phenician  woman  pleading  with  Christ  for  her 
stricken  daughter.  Every  phase  of  a  prayerful 
man's  life  suggests  an  occasion  for  prayer;  and 
prayer  has  varieties  enough  for  every  occasion. 
Take  the  single  fact  of  temptation,  out  of  which 
this  discourse  of  the  apostle  grows,  and  how  many 
occasions  for  prayer  it  furnishes  !  If  Satan  tempts 
in  a  variety  of  ways,  he  must  be  met  with  a  variety 
of  prayers.  The  apostle's  point,  in  short,  is  that 
life  is  full  of  occasions  and  suggestions  of  contact 
with  God,  and  that  a  Christian  is  to  avail  himself 
of  these.  Keep  that  thought  of  contact  with  God 
in  mind  as  the  key  to  the  passage.  Prayer  pu.ts 
you  in  contact.  The  moment  that  contact  ceases, 
you  are  in  danger  and  helpless.  You  have  Christ's 
word  for  it :  "  Apart  from  me  ye  can  do  nothing." 
You  want  God  everywhere  ;  you  want  his  counsel 
in  every  thing ;  your  joy  is  incomplete,  yea,  empty, 
without  his  sanction  and  sympathj'^ ;  your  sorrow 
is  unbearable  without  his  comfort ;  your  business 


PRAYER  AND   PANOPLY.  253 

lacks  its  one  great  element  of  success  if  God  is  left 
out  of  it ;  you  will  as  surely  fall  under  temptation 
as  you  are  human  if  God  does  not  help  you.  Pray, 
therefore,  with  every  kind  of  prayer,  at  every 
season. 

We  find  next  in  order  a  statement  of  the  ele- 
ment and  atmosphere  of  prayer^  —  "  in  the  spirit." 
You  know  that  a  great  deal  of  the  effectiveness 
and  general  quality  of  work  depends  upon  the 
element  in  which  it  is  done.  One  cannot  work 
equally  well  under  all  circumstances.  There  are 
certain  conditions  of  the  atmosphere,  for  instance, 
which  seem  to  paralyze  your  brain :  there  are  cer- 
tain close,  hot,  drizzling  days  when  all  your  work 
is  up-hill.  There  are  certain  people  whose  very 
presence  freezes  you,  and  makes  you  question 
whether  you  have  an  average  amount  of  brains  or 
of  feeling.  What  we  are,  comes  very  largely  out 
of  our  surroundings ;  just  as  a  taper  gets  much  of 
the  material  for  combustion  out  of  the  atmosphere. 
A  light  goes  out  in  a  vacuum.  A  swan  cannot  do 
his  best  in  the  air,  nor  an  eagle  in  the  water.  So 
the  power  of  prayer  depends  largely  on  the  element 
in  which  it  works.  A  man  who  thinks  he  has 
learned  to  pray  when  he  has  learned  the  forms  of 
prayer,  is  greatly  mistaken.  The  disciples  learned 
very  little  when  they  heard  the  Lord's  Prayer  from 
the  Lord's  own  lips.  They  had  indeed  a  lesson- 
book  in  that  prayer,  and  the  lessons  were  deep  as 
God's  own  heart ;  but  those  men,  at  that  stage  of 
their  religious  training,  could  not  know  what  it 
meant  to  pray,  "  Hallowed  be  thy  name  ;  thy  king- 


254  PRAYER  AND   PANOPLY. 

dom  come ;  thy  will  be  done."  The  hymn  says, 
Christians 

"  Learn  to  pray  when  first  they  live." 

So  they  do,  but  as  a  child  learns  the  alphabet.  We 
have  to  be  trained  in  prayer  as  in  every  other 
department  of  Christian  experience ;  and  one  im- 
portant factor  of  this  training  is,  to  know  in  what 
element  prayer  will  or  will  not  work  and  prevail. 
The  apostle  tells  us,  that  the  only  effective  prayer 
is  prayer  in  the  spirit :  and  by  this  he  does  not 
mean  prayer  when  one  feels  like  praying,  or,  as  we 
popularly  say,  "  is  in  the  spirit  of  praying ; "  nor 
does  he  mean  when  one  prays  spiritedly^  with 
enthusiasm  and  fervor ;  but  he  means  prayer  under 
the  impulse  and  direction  of  the  Spirit  of  God.  You 
remember  that  Paul,  in  that  wonderful  eighth 
chapter  of  Romans,  tells  us  that  we  have  a  natural 
infirmity  in  prayer ;  that  we  know  not  how  to  pray 
as  we  ought ;  and  that  only  the  Spirit  of  God  can 
help  this  infirmity,  and  teach  us  to  pray.  No  won- 
der, then,  that  he  says  in  our  text,  that  it  is  not 
enough  for  us  to  use  the  varieties  and  occasions  of 
prayer,  but  that  we  must  also  get  into  the  element 
of  pra3^er,  and  pray  in  the  spirit.  Otherwise,  prayer 
is  only  an  evidence  of  infirmity,  like  the  dim  burn- 
ing of  a  candle  in  foul  air.  Let  us  see  briefly  what 
the  Holy  Spirit  does  for  prayer. 

First,  it  creates  a  prayerful  heart.  True  prayer 
is  the  communion  of  a  child  with  a  father ;  and 
this  Holy  Spirit  is  called  the  Spirit  of  Adoption, 
whereby  we   cry  "  Father."     That   is,   the    Holy 


PRAYER  AND  PANOPLY.  255 

Spirit  creates  a  son's  heart  in  us :  "  The  Spirit 
himself  beareth  witness  unto  our  spirit,  that  we  are 
the  children  of  God :  heirs  of  God,  and  joint-heirs 
with  Christ."  That  is  the  first  thing.  We  never 
can  truly  pray  at  all  until  we  can  pray  "  Our 
Father !  "  You  see  that  we  need  the  Spirit's  aid, 
in  order  to  utter  the  very  first  words  of  the  Lord's 
prayer. 

Then,  further,  the  Spirit  suggests  the  substance 
of  our  prayers :  "  We  know  not  ivhat  we  should 
pray  for."  The  Spirit  searches  our  hearts,  and  lays 
bare  their  needs ;  and  these  needs  in  turn  drive  us 
to  the  mercy-seat. 

Again,  the  spirit  reveals  the  love  and  helpful- 
ness of  God^  and  so  encourages  us  to  present 
these  many  and  deep  needs  to  him.  We  know 
God  through  Christ,  it  is  said.  True;  but  we 
know  Christ  fully  only  through  the  Spirit,  which, 
while  it  convinces  us  of  sin,  likewise  convinces  us 
of  his  righteousness. 

The  Holy  Spirit  also  communicates  divine  love 
to  our  hearts.  He  reveals  God,  and  gives  us 
the  spirit  of  sons ;  and  we  say,  "  Behold  what 
manner  of  love  the  Father  hath  bestowed  upon 
us,  that  we  should  be  called  the  sons  of  God." 
"  We  love  him  because  he  first  loved  us,"  and  this 
love  communicates  warmth  and  enthusiasm  to 
prayer. 

And  once  more,  what  is  most  wonderful  of  all, 
the  Holy  Spirit  so  identifies  himself  with  our  case 
that  he  makes  intercession  for  us,  — intercession  so 
earnest  that  Paul  describes  it  as  "  with  unutterable 


256  PRAYER  AND  PANOPLY. 

groanings."     In   other   words,    God's   own    heart 
pleads  for  ns ;  and  our  mightiest  plea  is  there. 

And  now,  as  we  move  on,  we  are  directed  to 
the  quality  of  alertness  in  prayer.  Literally  the 
the  words  are,  "  and  being  awake  thereunto."  No- 
tice that  thereunto,  for  it  is  the  key  of  the  sentence. 
Watchfulness  and  prayer  belong  together,  even  as 
our  Lord  put  them  together ;  and  the  word  here 
falls  in  with  what  has  already  been  said  about 
occasions  or  opportunities  of  prayer.  Watch  there- 
unto ;  that  is,  unto  prayer,  with  reference  to 
prayer.  Keep  watch  over  prayer.  When  Scrip- 
ture thus  puts  us  on  guard,  we  know  that  there  is 
either  a  great  danger  to  be  averted,  or  a  great 
treasure  to  be  defended.  In  this  case,  there  is 
both  a  treasure  and  a  danger.  We  have  already 
seen  what  a  vital  relation  prayer  sustains  to  the 
whole  Christian  life.  Cut  that  great  main  which 
leads  the  water  from  the  reservoir  into  yonder 
city,  and  how  long  will  it  be  ere  the  city  is  in 
distress.  Prayer  is  the  medium  of  communion 
with  God,  and  without  that  communion  there  is 
no  Christian  living ;  and  so  the  hymn  has  not  put 
it  too  strongly  :  —  - 

"Prayer  is  the  Christian's  vital  breath.''^ 

There  is  no  life  without  God,  and  no  contact 
with  God  without  prayer :  so  that,  if  Satan  can 
cut  that  main,  the  life  is  in  his  power  ;  and  tlie 
danger  is  linked  with  the  treasure,  as  always. 
Value  implies  danger.  Tlie  poor  man's  cabin  is 
safe  from  thieves.     Tlie  value  of  prayer,  its  vital 


PRAYER  AND   PANOPLY.  257 

importance  to  Christian  life,  makes  it  a  centre  of 
temptation.  A  wise  general  will  silence,  if  he 
can,  the  battery  which  is  doing  his  men  the  most 
damage ;  and,  if  it  be  true,  that  — 

"  Satan  trembles  when  he  sees 
The  weakest  saiut  upon  his  knees," 

it  follows  that  Satan  will  leave  no  device  untried 
to  keep  that  saint  off  his  knees.  As  a  fact  of 
exj^erience,  the  tendency  to  neglect  prayer  is  in 
proportion  to  its  importance.  The  excuses  for 
such  neglect  are  famihar  to  you  all :  the  pressure 
of  business,  the  unseasonable  call,  the  concert  or 
lecture  or  assembly  on  the  prayer-meeting  night, 
the  mood  of  mind,  —  all  these  meet  the  Christian 
on  the  way  to  the  mercy-seat,  and  delay  him,  or 
stop  him  altogether,  until  the  roads  to  the  closet 
and  the  family  altar  and  the  place  of  social  prayer 
are  grass-grown. 

Hence  prayer  is  a  thing  to  be  watched,  — 
watched  as  a  habit  to  be  encouraged  by  practice, 
as  a  pleasure  with  which  the  Christian  is  to  grow 
into  a  sweet  familiarity  by  frequent  communings 
with  Him  in  whose  presence  is  fulness  of  joy,  as  a 
duty  which  he  neglects  at  the  peril  of  his  spiritual 
life.  We  should  watch  for  occasions  of  prayer, 
cultivating  the  habit  of  associating  every  detail  of 
our  life  with  God.  Often  we  are  so  placed  that 
our  seasons  for  prayer  must  be  brief.  So  much 
the  more  need  of  distributing  the  communion  over 
the  day.  Your  friend  in  the  adjoining  office  is  as 
busy  as  you  are.     You  cannot  either  of  you  find 


258  PRAYER  AND   PANOPLY. 

time  to  sit  down  for  a  long  chat;  but  there  are 
frequent  opportunities  in  the  course  of  the  day, 
if  you  are  on  the  lookout  for  them,  to  exchange  a 
word,  or  a  sign  of  recognition.  There  is  a  good 
deal  of  cheer  sometimes  in  a  friend's  nod,  or  m 
the  wave  of  his  hand.  We  may  often  exchange  a 
word  or  a  look  or  a  thought  with  God  when  we 
cannot  stop  for  a  long  interview.  Men  who  are 
travelling  much,  and  can  seldom  sit  down  to  a 
meal,  learn  to  eat  by  the  way.  Again,  we  ought 
to  watch  before  prayer.  The  best  jDrayer  comes 
out  of  the  best  life.  We  ought  to  try  to  live  so 
that  prayer  shall  not  come  in  as  something  foreign 
to  our  life,  but  rather  so  that  our  life  shall  run 
naturally  up  into  prayer.  Prayer  and  life  should 
be  of  one  piece.  If  we  watch  our  lives,  to  hold 
them  close  to  God,  our  prayer  will  be  simply 
another  form  of  our  life.  Sometimes  we  hear  the 
complaint,  that  social  meetings  for  prayer  are 
spiritless  and  heavy ;  and  the  explanation  which 
is  most  readily  caught  at  is,  that  the  leader  of  the 
meeting  does  not  understand  his  business.  But 
while  this  may  be  true,  the  difficulty  is  more  likely 
to  lie  with  those  who  are  led,  in  that  prayer  has 
to  overcome  the  terrible  inertia  of  the  prayerless 
lives  which  they  bring  to  the  house  of  God. 

And  we  must  watch  after  prayer^  to  see  what 
becomes  of  our  prayers.  He  would  be  a  strange 
archer  who  did  not  look  to  see  where  his  arrow 
struck,  a  strange  merchant  who  did  not  care 
whether  his  richly  freighted  ship  arrived  at  her 
port  or  not.     If  we  pray,  we  pray  presumably  for 


PRAYER  AND  PANOPLY.  269 

something;  and  if  that  something  never  comes 
into  our  lives,  if  our  prayers  never  come  back  to 
us  in  the  shape  of  blessings,  it  is  time  we  were  on 
the  watch.  David,  in  the  fifth  psalm,  says,  "I 
will  direct  my  prayer  unto  thee  ; "  but  adds,  "  and 
will  look  up." 

That  this  watching  is  to  be  persistent^  "in  all 
perseverance,"  follows  naturally  from  what  has 
been  said.  The  conflict  with  temptation  is  a  life- 
long one ;  the  necessity  for  prayer  never  ceases : 
"  Long  as  they  live  should  Christians  pray ; "  and, 
therefore,  the  necessity  for  watchfulness  never 
ceases. 

And  now,  finally,  the  text  directs  us  to  the 
objects  of  prayer.  Prayer  must  not  be  selfish. 
It  is  the  language  of  the  kingdom  of  God ;  and  the 
kingdom  of  God  is  a  community,  a  brotherhood. 
Prayer  is  the  expression  of  the  life  of  God's  king- 
dom, and  that  life  is  social.  We  must  pray  for 
ourselves ;  but  we  must  pray,  also,  for  each  other, 
for  the  whole  brotherhood  of  God,  "for  all  the 
saints."  Christ  himself  teaches  us  to  say,  "Our 
Father,  give  us  bread,  forgive  our  debts ; "  and  it 
is  with  our  prayer  just  as  it  is  with  our  life.  We 
never  learn  the  true  sweetness  and  richness  of  life 
until  we  have  learned  to  live  for  others,  and  we 
never  reach  the  true  blessing  of  prayer  until  we 
have  learned  to  pray  for  others.  Such  prayer  re- 
acts to  make  our  prayers  broader  and  stronger  and 
richer.  It  gives  prayer  a  wider  range,  touches  it 
into  a  quicker  sympathy,  and  pervades  it  with  a 
deeper  emotion. 


260  PRAYER  AND  PANOPLY. 

And  while  prayer  is  to  be  made  by  the  Church 
for  the  whole  Church,  it  is  also  to  be  made  directly 
and  specifically  for  the  leaders  of  the  Church,  for 
the  ministers  of  Christ,  "  and  for  me,"  says  Paul ; 
and  he  hints  at  some  of  the  reasons  why  special 
prayer  should  be  made  for  him  and  for  the  class 
which  he  represents.  They  have  to  proclaim  un- 
popular truths.  They  preach  Christ  crucified ;  and 
he  is  to  the  Jews  an  offence,  and  to  the  Greeks 
foolishness.  Hence  they  need  courage.  They  are 
tempted  to  hold  back  the  truth.  They  need  prayer, 
that  they  may  make  known  the  truth  with  bold- 
ness. Then,  too,  the  truth  they  preach  is  a  deep 
and  far-reaching  truth.  Preaching  deals  with  the 
infinite ;  its  theme  is  God  in  Christ,  the  mystery 
of  the  gospel,  —  truth  which  no  man  can  handle 
unless  he  be  taught  of  God.  To  bring  that  truth 
home  with  power  to  the  infinite  varieties  of  mind 
and  character  with  which  he  has  to  deal,  he  needs 
the  wisdom  from  above,  which  God  gives  only  to 
those  who  ask  in  faith.  He  must  ask  this  for 
himself;  but  if  the  church  of  Christ  is  at  one 
with  him,  in  the  loving  and  saving  intent  of  his 
ministry,  they  will  ask  it  for  him.  The  strongest 
bond  between  a  pastor  and  his  people  is  their - 
mutual  prayer.  I  know  that  we  all  preach  in- 
effectively at  times.  I  know  that  there  is  a  large 
class  of  society  which  emphasizes  the  foolishness  of 
preaching,  and  assumes  that  preaching  is  nothing 
but  foolishness.  But  it  is  too  much  overlooked, 
that  preaching  is  a  thing  in  which  the  people  as 
well  as  the  preacher  have  a  share  and  a  responsi- 


PRAYER  AND  PANOPLY.  261 

bility.  When  a  minister  has  prepared  and  preached 
his  sermon,  that  service  is  not  complete  unless  to 
the  sermon  the  prayers  of  the  people  are  added. 
Those  prayers  give  a  thrust  and  a  momentum  to 
a  sermon  which  all  the  preacher's  intellect  and 
eloquence  and  piety  cannot  give.  A  sermon  with- 
out the  people's  prayers  is  shorn  of  half  its  power. 
And  it  will  turn  out,  I  have  no  question,  when 
things  shall  be  seen  in  the  clearer  light  of  another 
world,  that  a  very  large  part  of  the  ineffectiveness 
of  preaching  has  been  due  to  the  prayerlessness  of 
the  people.  That  eagle,  with  his  strong  wings, 
and  his  light  body  framed  to  cut  the  air,  could 
not  rise  if  there  were  no  atmosphere  for  his  wings 
to  beat  against.  Neither  will  a  sermon  rise  and 
fly  to  its  lodging-place  in  men's  hearts  if  the 
prayers  of  the  people  do  not  bear  it  up.  Paul 
called  himself  an  ambassador  in  chains.  He  spoke 
literally.  He  was  chained  by  the  hand  to  a  pre- 
torian  soldier.  But  many  a  minister  of  Christ  is 
equally  an  ambassador  in  chains,  hampered  and 
fettered  by  the  lack  of  his  people's  affectionate 
and  fervent  prayers  for  him  and  for  the  Word  he 
preaches.  You  remember  how  Israel  prevailed  in 
fight  so  long  as  Moses  held  up  his  hands ;  but  his 
hands  were  weak,  and  would  have  dropped,  but 
that  Aaron  and  Hur  stood  by  his  side,  and  held 
them  up. 

Pray,  therefore,  Christian  brethren  !  Pray  with 
all  kinds  of  prayer ;  pray  on  all  occasions ;  pray 
in  the  power  and  unction  of  the  Holy  Spirit; 
mount  guard  over  prayer.     Pray  for  all  the  saints. 


262  PRAYER  AND   PANOPLY. 

pray  for  the  ministers  of  the  Word.  This  will 
round  and  complete  the  Christian  panoply.  The 
old  fables  tell  how  the  gods  used  to  make  armor 
for  their  favorite  warriors,  and  bring  it  to  them, 
and  set  it  up  for  their  admiration  and  encourage- 
ment. This  armor  of  God  is  set  up  before  your 
eyes  by  God's  messenger.  It  is  no  creation  of 
fable.  These  gifts  of  truth,  salvation,  hope,  right- 
eousness, faith,  are  real  defences  against  the  ar- 
rows of  the  kingdom  of  darkness ;  but  they  are  of 
little  avail  without  prayer.  Without  prayer,  you 
and  I  will  be  no  more  to  the  church  of  Christ,  no 
more  against  the  wiles  of  the  Devil,  than  yonder 
mailed  statue  on  its  pedestal. 


XV. 

THE   DAYSMAN. 


XV. 

THE  DAYSMAN. 

"  For  he  is  not  a  man,  as  I  am,  that  I  should  answer  him,  and 
we  should  come  together  in  judgment. 

"  Neither  is  there  any  daysman  betwixt  us,  that  might  lay  his 
hand  upon  us  both."  —  Job  ix.  32,  33. 

AT  this  point  of  tlie  poem,  we  are  seeing  Job 
at  his  worst.  He  has  become  desperate 
under  his  accumulated  miseries.  His  three  friends, 
instead  of  giving  him  the  sympathy  and  tender- 
ness which  his  wretchedness  craves,  take  the  atti- 
tude of  mentors,  mete  out  to  him  reproach  instead 
of  comfort,  and,  assuming  that  his  trouble  is  God's 
visitation  for  some  secret  sin,  ply  him  with  appeals 
to  humble  himself  and  repent.  Conscious  that 
he  has  hitherto  served  God  faithfully,  Job  indig- 
nantly denies  and  fights  this  cool  assumption  of 
his  guilt ;  but,  in  fighting  away  from  this,  he  is 
pushed  bade  upon  another  question,  which  takes 
on  larger  and  larger  proportions  as  he  confronts 
it:  "If  I  am  not  afflicted  because  of  my  guilt, 
as  I  refuse  to  believe,  why  am  I  afflicted  ?  "  Why 
are  righteous  men  everywhere  afflicted  ?  The  old 
current  theology  of  his  day  had  but  one  answer 
to  give,  —  the  answer  elaborated  by  Bildad  in  the 

265 


266  THE  DAYSMAN. 

previous  chapter,  —  God  is  just:  therefore  he  must 
send  prosperity  upon  the  good,  and  affliction  upon 
the  bad.  You  are  afflicted:  therefore  you  are 
guilty.  Job,  like  many  another  man,  had  ac- 
cepted that  answer  until  he  came  to  apply  it  to 
his  own  case ;  and  then  he  found  it  would  not 
work.  What  an  epoch  it  is  in  a  man's  thinking, 
when  he  first  finds  himself  compelled  to  doubt 
and  to  challenge  the  long-accepted,  first  positions 
of  his  thought.  How  completely  at  sea  he  is  for 
a  while.  The  old  moorings  are  swept  away :  to 
what  can  he  tie  up  ?  The  main  movement  of  this 
poem  is  the  working  out  of  just  such  a  problem  as 
this.  In  the  present  chapter.  Job  answers  Bildad. 
He  admits  that  God  is  just ;  but  from  his  infinite 
justice,  holiness,  and  power,  he  concludes  that  the 
best  man  has  no  hope  of  being  approved  by  him, 
and  runs  into  a  passionate  and  wicked  outbreak 
against  the  Almighty,  the  amount  of  which  is,  that 
God  is  simply  an  arbitrary  tyrant,  laughing  at  the 
despair  of  the  innocent,  and  giving  over  the  earth 
to  the  rule  of  wicked  men. 

This  protest  he  clothes  in  the  figure  of  a  legal 
trial.  God  comes  into  court,  first  as  plaintiff  and 
then  as  defendant ;  first  asserting  his  rights,  snatch- 
ing away  that  which  he  has  a  mind  to  claim,  then 
answering  the  citation  of  the  man  who  challenges 
his  justice.  In  either  case  man's  cause  is  hope- 
less :  "  He  taketh  away,  and  who  can  hinder  him  ?  " 
'  If  the  subject  of  his  power  calls  him  to  account,  he 
appears  at  the  bar,  only  to  crush  the  appellant,  and, 
with  his  infinite  wisdom,  to  find  flaws  in  his  plea. 


THE  DAYSMAN.  267 

As  we  push  our  way  towards  the  storm-centre  of 
this  whirlwind  of  passion,  we  find  that  it  is  not 
utterly  chaotic.  At  first  feebly,  vaguely,  timidly, 
certain  lines  strike  out,  growing  more  firmly  drawn 
and  more  definite  in  direction  as  the  poem  unfolds. 
Certain  deep-lying  instincts  begin  to  take  shape  in 
cravings  for  something  which  the  theology  of  the 
day  does  not  supply.  The  sufferer  begins  to  feel, 
rather  than  see,  that  the  problem  of  his  afiiiction 
needs  for  its  solution  the  additional  factor  which 
was  supplied  long  after  in  the  person  and  work  of 
Jesus  Christ,  —  a  mediator  between  God  and  man. 

Let  us  note,  in  the  first  place,  the  pecuHar  facts 
in  Job's  case  which  call  out  this  desire.  The  point 
of  his  complaint,  as  we  have  already  seen,  is,  that 
with  the  natural  infirmity  and  fallibility  of  his 
race,  for  wliich  he  is  not  responsible,  he  stands  no 
chance  in  trying  conclusions  with  an  infinite  God 
whose  wisdom  charges  even  the  angels  with  folly, 
and  in  whose  sight  the  very  heavens  are  not  pure. 
As  he  sees  it,  plaintiff  and  defendant  have  no 
common  ground.  God  is  a  being  different  in 
nature  and  condition  from  himself.  He  is  far 
withdrawn,  in  his  infinite  majesty  and  holiness,  in 
a  realm  of  pure  intelligences,  ruled  by  different 
laws  from  those  prevailing  in  this  scene  of  confu- 
sion. He  sees  man's  weakness  and  error,  only  from 
this  stand-point.  If,  now,  there  were  a  human  side 
in  God ;  if  his  adversary  were  a  man  who  knew 
human  life  and  the  human  heart  and  the  pressure 
of  earthly  limitations  from  actual  experience,  — 
then,  says  Job,  I  could  come  into  court  with  him 


268  THE  DAYSMAN. 

with  some  chance  of  justice.  Or,  if  this  might  not 
be  ;  if  there  were  only  some  daysman,  some  arbiter 
or  mediator  who  could  lay  his  hand  upon  us  both, 
who  could  understand  both  natures  and  both  sets 
of  circumstances,  who  should  know  both  the 
earthly  and  the  heavenly  economy  ;  if  there  were 
but  such  an  one  to  stand  between  us,  and  inter- 
pret, and  reconcile  the  one  to  the  other,  and  compel 
whichever  of  the  two  is  wrong  to  do  the  other 
right,  —  then  all  would  be  well. 

It  is  wonderful,  it  is  most  pathetic,  this  bitter, 
pitiful  wail  wrung  from  a  tortured  heart  in  those 
far-off  times  ,  this  cry  for  that  better  thing  so  fa- 
miliar to  us,  and  which  we  owe  to  the  gospel  of 
the  Son  of  God,  —  a  mediator  who  lays  his  hand 
on  both  God  and  man.  And  this  leads  us  to  ob- 
serve, that  this  desire  of  Job's  is  to  be  studied, 
not  merely  as  the  experience  of  an  individual 
under  peculiar  circumstances,  but  as  a  human 
experience,  the  germs  of  which  are  in  man  as 
man ;  in  other  words,  Job's  craving  for  a  media- 
tor is  the  craving  of  humanit}' .  Natural  instincts, 
indeed,  are  not  infallible  guides ;  but  they  are 
trutliful  suggesters.  In  the  material  world,  itJs  a 
familiar  enough  fact,  that  the  indication  of  a  want 
is  the  indication  of  a  supply  somewhere.  Supply 
and  demand  answer  to  each  other.  The  channels 
which  run  up  the  trunk  of  a  tree  are  infallible 
signs  of  the  tree's  need  of  moisture,  and  are 
answered  by  the  streams  which  run  among  the 
hills.  A  bird's  wing  implies  air ;  the  human 
tongue,  palate,  and  stomach  imply  food  ;  the  ear  is 


THE   DAYSMAN.  269 

nothing  without  sound,  nor  the  eye  without  light. 
Shall  we  say  that  this  law  ceases  to  hold  from  the 
moment  we  quit  the  material  world  ?  "  Nature," 
says  one,  "  is  true  up  to  the  heart  of  man  :  shall 
nature  suddenly  become  a  false  prophet  then  ? " 
The  cravings  of  the  human  heart  for  love,  for 
sympathy,  for  masterdom,  for  an  object  of  worship, 
for  knowledge,  —  do  not  these  declare  that  the 
heart  was  made  for  these,  and  that  somewhere  in 
the  scheme  of  things  there  are  answers  and  sup- 
plies for  these  needs  ?  ^  If  not,  might  we  not  well 
ask  with  the  Psalmist,  "  Wherefore  hast  thou  made 
all  men  in  vain  ?  "  Not  a  demonstration,  indeed  ; 
but  does  not  the  groping  of  the  human  soul  in  all 
ages  and  places  for  a  God,  at  least  suggest  that  the 
soul  was  made  for  God,  and  more  than  hint  at  the 


1 "  It  is  altogether  unlikely  that  man  spiritual  should  be  vio- 
lently separated,  in  all  the  conditions  of  growth,  develoi^ment, 
and  life,  from  man  physical.  It  is  indeed  difficult  to  conceive 
that  one  set  of  principles  should  guide  the  natural  life,  and  these, 
at  a  certain  period,  —  the  very  point  where  they  are  needed,  — 
suddenly  give  place  to  another  set  of  principles  altogether  new 
and  unrelated.  Nature  has  never  taught  us  to  expect  such  a 
catastrophe.  She  has  nowhere  prepared  us  for  it.  And  man 
cannot  in  the  nature  of  things,  —  in  the  nature  of  thought,  in  the 
nature  of  language,  —  be  separated  into  two  such  incoherent 
halves.  .  .  .  After  all,  the  true  greatness  of  law  lies  in  its  vision 
of  the  unseen.  Law  in  the  visible  is  the  invisible  in  the  visible  ; 
and  to  speak  of  laws  as  natural  is  to  define  them  in  their  appli- 
cation to  a  part  of  the  universe,  the  sense  part  ;  whereas  a  wider 
survey  would  lead  us  to  regard  all  law  as  essentially  spiritual. 
To  magnify  the  laws  of  nature  as  laws  of  this  small  world  of 
ours  is  to  take  a  provincial  view  of  the  universe.  Law  is  great ; 
not  because  the  phenomenal  world  is  great,  but  because  these 
vanishing  lines  are  the  avenues  into  the  eternal  order."  —  Henky 
Drummond  :  Natural  Law  in  the  Spiritual  World. 


270  THE   DAYSMAN. 

existence  of  a  being  to  meet  these  outstretched 
hands,  and  take  them  tenderly  into  his  own  ? 

Or  Christ :  has  Christ  been  arbitrarily  forced 
upon  the  world  to  make  his  own  place  ?  or  is  there 
a  place  ready  for  him  in  the  human  heart  ?  Is 
there  no  eternal  relation  between  Christ  and  the 
world's  need  ?  Why  is  he  called  the  "  desire  of  all 
nations  ?  "  The  need  of  Christ  is  not  an  artificial 
need,  created  by  conditions  of  knowledge  and  civil- 
ization :  it  is  a  need  embedded  in  the  very  struc- 
ture of  humanity.  Christ  meets  an  existing  need. 
Manhood  was  made  for  Christ.  When  antiqua- 
rians, digging  in  the  ruins  of  some  old  city,  come 
upon  the  half  of  a  beautiful  statue,  they  are  at 
once  stimulated  to  search  for  the  other  half. 
There  are  limbs  and  feet  and  a  body,  which 
want  a  head  and  shoulders  to  complete  them. 
When  these  are  found,  it  is  evident  enough  that 
the  two  parts  belong  together;  so,  when  Christ 
comes,  it  is  evident  enough  that  there  is  a  vacant 
place  which  it  was  meant  he  only  should  fill.  He 
was  meant  for  humanity  ;  but,  equally,  humanity 
was  meant  for  him.  And  with  Christ  goes  this 
fact  of  mediation.  Mediation  is  not  a  dogma  of 
theologians  merely.  It  is  not  an  invention.  It  is 
not  an  ingenious  contrivance  to  get  round  or  over 
the  two  tremendous  facts  of  a  holy  God  and  a  sin- 
ful humanity.  It  meets  a  human  need  and  a 
human  craving  just  as  truly  as  Christ  himself 
does.  There  is  a  place  for  mediation  in  man's 
relations  to  God.  There  is  a  craving  for  mediation 
in  tlie  human  heart  to  which  Job  here  gives  voice. 


THE  DAYSMAN.  271 

One  needs  but  a  moderate  acquaintance  with  the 
history  of  religion,  to  see  how  this  instinctive  long- 
ing for  some  one  or  something  to  stand  between 
man  and  God  has  asserted  itself  in  the  institutions 
of  worship.  What  is  the  idol  but  the  expression  of 
the  Pagan  feeling  that  the  Supreme  Being,  what- 
ever or  wherever  he  be,  is  too  remote  from  the 
sphere  of  human  life  and  suffering  to  be  available  ? 
What  are  all  attempts  to  figure  or  to  symbolize  the 
divine,  but  confessions  that  man  wants  God  trans- 
lated into  the  terms  of  his  own  humanity  ?  What 
is  the  lesson  of  that  kneeling  figure  beneath  the 
cathedral  arches,  with  eyes  upturned  to  the  image 
of  the  Virgin-mother,  but  that  that  heart  knows  no 
way  to  God  save  through  a  nature  like  its  own  ? 
Men  talk  as  if  the  incarnation  were  a  thing  utterly 
monstrous,  —  a  miraculous,  arbitrary  break  into  the 
law  of  humanity ;  seeming  to  forget  that  incarna- 
tion is  a  demand  of  humanity  ;  that,  from  the  very 
beginning  of  human  history,  men  have  been  striv- 
ing to  cast  their  conceptions  of  God  and  of  God- 
like qualities  into  forms  or  symbols  which  appeal 
to  flesh  and  blood.  Job  simply  tells  over  again 
the  old,  old  story  of  the  human  heart ;  this,  name- 
ly :  God  is  so  remote,  the  conditions  of  his  being  so 
exceptional,  his  majesty  and  power  so  transcend- 
ant,  that  direct  approach  to  him  is  impossible  unless 
in  something  or  some  one  the  two  lives  and  the  two 
conditions  meet  and  blend,  so  that  a  daysman  may 
stand  between,  with  one  hand  on  weak,  ignorant 
man,  and  the  other  touching  the  divine  throne 
itself,  and  interpreting  the  one  life  to  the  other. 


272  THE  DAYSMAN. 

Tliis  demand  for  a  mediator  is  backed  and  urged 
by  two  great  interlinked  facts,  —  sin  and  suffering. 

Job's  question  here  is,  How  shall  man  be  just 
with  God?  While  he  sturdily  protests  his  inno- 
cence of  any  conscious,  wilful  sin  which  deserves 
this  aftliction,  he  never  for  a  moment  denies  his 
participation  in  the  common  moral  infirmity  of  the 
race ;  and  his  trouble  lies  just  there.  He  urges 
that  man  as  he  is  camiot  be  just  with  God  as  he 
is.  Let  him  be  as  good  as  he  may,  his  goodness  is 
impurity  itself  beside  the  infinite  perfection  of  the 
Almighty.  And,  really,  it  is  hard  to  see  how,  from 
Job's  stand-point,  he  could  reach  an}'-  other  conclu- 
sion ;  hard  to  see  how  any  man  could  evade  Job's 
difficulty  who  should  try  to  solve  this  problem 
with  only  these  two  factors,  —  a  righteous  God, 
revealed  in  nature,  and  a  man,  imperfect  and  err- 
ing by  his  own  nature.  In  other  words,  if  Christ, 
and  all  that  Christ  reveals  of  God,  are  dropped  out 
of  the  question,  and  the  question  is  simply  God's 
approving  recognition  of  man's  merit,  I  do  not 
know  that  Job  puts  the  case  any  too  strongly. 
Divine  omniscience  must  detect  spots  in  the  best 
obedience  of  human  hands.  It  "  dares  not  appear 
before  the  throne."  God  cannot  listen  to  any  plea 
of  man  based  on  his  own  righteousness.  It  must 
break  down,  and  the  man  must  -  needs  condemn 
himself  out  of  his  own  mouth. 

Hence  Job's  mind,  groping  round  for  the  un- 
known quantity  in  this  problem,  was  feeling  its 
way  in  the  right  direction  when  it  struck  upon 
this   thought  of  mediation,  as  was   shown   later, 


THE  DAYSMAN.  273 

when  God  made  that  thought  the  very  centre  and 
basis  of  the  Levitical  system.  Between  God  and 
man  stood  the  priest,  typically  with  his  hand  upon 
both.  No  man  went  direct  to  God  with  the  bur- 
den of  his  sin.  Some  one  must  receive  his  gift, 
and  place  it  on  the  altar,  and  send  it  up  in  fra- 
grant smoke  to  heaven.  Now,  the  priest  turns 
towards  God,  entering  within  the  veil  with  his 
hands  laden  with  incense,  and  there,  in  the  awful 
secrecy  of  Jehovah's  pavilion,  making  atonement 
for  sin ;  while  the  fragrant  incense-clouds  inwrap 
the  golden  cherubim,  and  hover  over  the  mercy- 
seat.  Again  he  turns  toward  the  people,  and  lays 
his  hands  upon  the  head  of  the  scape-goat,  confess- 
ing over  it  the  people's  sin,  and  sending  the  beast 
away  to  wander  in  the  desert,  —  strange,  uncon- 
scious type  of  a  nobler  victim,  mysterious,  un- 
conscious bearer  of  a  nation's  guilt.  Thus  turning 
now  to  God,  now  to  the  jDeople,  himself  compassed 
with  infirmit}",  bearing  the  names  of  the  tribes  ever 
graven  in  sparkling  gems  upon  his  heart,  touched 
with  compassion  for  the  ignorant  and  for  them 
that  are  out  of  the  way,  yet  admitted  to  the  very 
presence-chamber  of  Jehovah, — he  stands,  the  first 
divinely  ordained  type  of  the  da}'sman,  appointed 
for  men,  in  things  pertaining  to  God. 

You  do  not  need  to  be  told  how  beautifully  the 
writer  to  the  Hebrews  depicts  Christ  as  the  reality 
answering  to  this  type ;  and  a  blessed  reality  we 
find  him  when  we  face  Job's  old  problem.  How 
shall  man  be  just  with  God  ?  and  come  with  our 
sins  to  his   bar,  to   hold   controversy  with   him. 


274  THE  DAYSMAN. 

Tlirow  Christ  out  of  the  controversy,  and  we  say, 
"  How  can  I  hope  for  sympathy  or  compassion  at 
the  hands  of  this  terrible  holiness?  What  can  it 
do  with  sin  but  condemn  it  ?  What  with  the  sin- 
ner but  punish  him  ?  Here  am  I,  weak  and  erring 
by  nature,  compassed  about  by  all  sorts  of  tempta- 
tions, my  mind  held  down  to  earth  by  the  neces- 
sity of  earning  my  own  bread  and  my  children's. 
I  am  overworked,  overstrained,  often  sick,  irrita- 
ble, petulant ;  and  I  make,  at  best,  but  a  bungling 
business  of  a  spiritual  life.  I  might  urge  these 
things  in  extenuation  of  my  case  if  God  were  a 
man  as  I  am ;  but  how  can  I  expect  him,  a  being 
so  infinitely  superior,  seated  on  the  inaccessible 
heights  of  this  pure  heaven,  with  a  nature  to  which 
sin  cannot  appeal,  —  how  can  I  expect  him  to  con- 
cern himself  with  these  toils  and  hindrances  and 
burdens  of  mine  ?  "  Thank  God !  I  can  say  to 
such  an  one,  "  He  is  a  man."  I  point  him  to  God 
manifest  in  the  flesh.  Between  God's  pure  spir- 
itual essence  and  you  stands  Christ,  tempted  and 
tried  like  as  you  are :  an  High  Priest  enrolled 
among  men,  and,  as  a  man,  able  to  "have  com- 
passion upon  the  ignorant,  and  upon  them  that  are 
out  of  the  way."  He  knows  by  actual  contact  the 
power  and  seductiveness  of  evil ;  he  knows  by 
actual  experience  the  hardest  and  most  heavily 
weighted  side  of  life :  and  he  is  touched,  not  only 
with  the  knowledge,  but  with  the  feeling^  of  your 
infirmities.  No  depth  of  sorrow  so  low  that  he 
has  not  been  down  there ;  no  road  so  ruofs^ed  or 
thorny  that  he  has  not  walked  every  step  of  it; 


THE   DAYSMAN.  275 

no  agony  of  pain  so  intense  that  he  has  not  been 
racked  by  it.  And  so,  as  you  come  to  God  by 
him,  you  learn  that  your  Judge  is  also  your  sym- 
pathizer. In  coming  to  God,  "  the  Judge  of  all," 
you  find  that  you  come  to  "  Jesus,  the  Mediator, 
the  Daysman  of  a  new  covenant."  You  learn 
through  him,  the  Incarnate  Word,  what  you  never 
could  learn  so  well  from  any  written  word,  that 
the  God  who  moulded  this  dust  knoweth  the  frame 
which  he  has  made,  remembereth  that  it  is  dust, 
cares  for  every  grain  of  that  dust,  and  pitieth 
them  that  fear  him,  even  as  a  father  his  children ; 
for  even  they  that  fear  him  —  his  most  reverent, 
most  loyal  sons  and  daughters — have  need  of  pity. 
This  Saviour,  this  Son  of  man,  in  whom  thrills  the 
very  life  of  God,  is  able  to  come  down  to  where 
we  are,  and  say  to  us,  "  God  is  just  what  I  am. 
He  that  hath  seen  me  hath  seen  the  Father." 

So  of  forgiveness.  Clean  I  surely  am  not,  and 
never  can  be,  in  God's  sight.  Moral  perfection 
in  him  I  may  admire  from  a  distance,  as  I  would 
some  glittering  snow-peak  of  the  Caucasus ;  but  it 
is  a  different  matter  when  I  come  to  climb,  and 
try  to  find  a  refuge  for  my  frailty  in  that  perfect 
beauty  of  holiness.  Sinful  as  I  am,  how  can  I 
hope  that  he  will  forgive  ?  What  can  I  bring  to 
win  his  grace  ?  "  Will  the  Lord  be  pleased  with 
thousands  of  rams,  or  with  ten  thousands  of  rivers 
of  oil  ? "  Nay,  "  He  hath  showed  thee,  O  man, 
what  is  good  ,•  and  what  doth  the  Lord  require  of 
thee,  but  to  do  justly,  and  love  mercy,  and  walk 
humbly  with  thy  God?"     What,  indeed !     Is  this 


276  THE  DAYSMAN. 

a  slight  requirement  ?  Truly,  to  fill  it  out  were 
even  harder  than  to  bring  the  thousands  of  vic- 
tims. To  do  justly,  love  mercy,  walk  humbly,  — 
that  may  seem  to  some  an  easy  thing ;  but,  when 
a  man  has  once  caught  sight  of  God's  holiness,  as 
Job  had,  and  has  learned  God's  ideal  of  justice, 
mercy,  and  humility,  he  is  not  unlikely  to  reach 
Job's  conclusion.  What  shall  I  do,  then  ?  How 
shall  I  bear  his  hand  upon  me  ?  Even  while  I  ask, 
it  is  upon  me ;  and  lo !  it  is  a  pierced  hand,  scored 
with  the  mark  of  the  nail ;  and  I  hear  a  voice : 
"  What  the  law  could  not  do,  in  that  it  was  weak 
through  the  flesh,  God,  sending  his  own  Son  in 
the  likeness  of  sinful  flesh  and  as  an  offering  for 
sin,  condemned  sin  in  the  flesh :  that  the  ordinance 
of  the  law  might  be  fulfilled  in  us,  who  walk  not 
after  the  flesh,  but  after  the  spirit."  Thus  I  learn 
that  this  terrible,  holy  God  so  loves  and  cares  for 
me  that  he  is  anxious  to  forgive  me,  —  so  anxious 
that  he  becomes  a  man,  in  order  that  I  may  see 
divine,  forgiving  love  translated  into  human  linea- 
ments and  human  deeds  and  human  words.  Christ 
says  to  me,  *■'  I  offered  this  life  because  of  your  sins. 
This  hand  upon  you  is  God's  hand ;  and  the  voice 
which  speaks  to  you  is  God's  voice,  saying,  •■  If  you 
confess  your  sins,  he  is  faithful  and  just.^  "  Mark 
that.  Not  one  jot  of  that  awful  justice  abated ; 
yet  still  faithful  to  forgive  your  sins,  and  "to 
cleanse  you  from  all  unrighteousness."  Through 
him  I  learn  not  only  how  a  penitent  soul  may  urge 
confidently  its  plea  at  the  divine  bar,  but  how  it 
may  be  fully  justified  by  faith,  and  have  peace 


THE  DAYSMAN.  277 

with  God  through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  The 
forgiveness  of  sins.  Every  sabbath  we  repeat  it, 
"  I  believe  in  the  forgiveness  of  sins,"  until  it 
has  become  a  commonplace.  But  it  is  well  some- 
times to  look  beneath  these  commonplaces,  and 
see  what  they  cover.  Do  we  realize  how  much  it 
means  for  God  to  forgive  sin  ?  Do  we  realize  of 
what  infinite  value  the  revelation  and  mediation 
of  Christ  are  in  making  that  an  article  of  faith? 
Do  we  realize,  as  Job  did,  how  hopeless  it  is  to 
seek  to  draw  from  Nature,  which  never  forgives, 
any  comfort  or  teaching  concerning  the  tender  and 
just  dealing  of  infinite  holiness  with  a  finite  and 
erring  man  ? 

Again,  this  craving  for  a  mediator  is  awakened 
by  human  experience  of  suffering ;  a  fact  which  is 
intertwined  with  the  fact  of  sin.  This  poor,  tor- 
tured patriarch !  Truly,  from  the  Christian  stand- 
point, he  is  one  of  the  most  pathetic  spectacles  in 
all  history :  no  knowledge,  no  dream,  of  Christ ; 
no  hint  of  such  knowledge  of  God  as  is  possible 
only  through  Christ ;  no  hint  of  divine  sympathy 
or  of  loving  purpose  in  affiiction.  Take  up  your 
own  bitterest  sorrow,  and  go  back  with  it  to  the 
ash-heap  on  which  Job  sits,  and  put  yourself  as  far 
as  possible  in  his  place.  Shut  out  the  view  of  the 
Christ  on  whose  pierced  hand  you  have  dropped 
your  tears,  while  you  have  leaned  against  his  heart, 
and  heard  him  whisper  the  higher  lesson  of  sorrow, 
—  and  will  you  wonder  that  Job  broke  out  into 
passionate  despair?  Will  you  wonder  that  his 
heart   cried    out  for  just  that  which  has  been  so 


2T8  THE   DAYSMAN. 

ineffably  precious  to  you  ?  Take  his  view  of  God 
as  his  own  magnificent  words  describe  him,  —  over- 
turning the  mountains,  and  sealing  the  stars,  and 
striding  upon  the  heights  of  the  sea,  and  bring- 
ing this  tremendous  energy  to  bear  in  afflicting  a 
poor,  weak  son  of  man,  —  and  do  you  wonder  that 
he  cried  out  for  some  one  to  stand  between  liim 
and  that  awful  power  and  holiness?  Ah!  there 
was  no  one  to  stand  by  Job,  and  say,  "  Look  on 
me.  I  am  purer  than  thou  art,  yea,  spotless  and 
sinless  as  God  himself ;  yet  it  pleased  the  Lord  to 
bruise  me.  Behold  my  hands  and  my  feet.  Thrust 
thy  hand  into  my  side.  Sit  down  here,  and  let  me 
tell  thee  of  Gethsemane  and  Calvary,  of  agony  such 
as  even  you  never  endured.  You  cannot  under- 
stand this.  You  are  shut  up  within  the  narrow 
conception  of  affliction  as  punishment  and  retribu- 
tion. I  can  show  you,  by  my  life  and  character, 
how  suffering  ministers  to  perfection.  I  can  show 
you  how,  on  that  hard  soil  watered  with  tears, 
grew  up  the  manhood  which  is  the  world's  pattern, 
the  world's  hope,  and  the  eternal  joy  and  glory  of 
heaven."  Christ  steps  forth  from  the  darkness 
which  veils  Calvary,  and  says  to  the  great  host 
of  the  suffering,  "  Here  is  suffering  which  is  not 
retribution,  suffering  which  is  not  the  outpouring 
of  divine  wrath,  suffering  ministered  by  perfect 
love,  and  issuing  in  power  and  purity."  I  say 
again,  we  need,  our  poor  humanity  needs,  such  a 
daysman,  partaker  of  both  natures,  the  divine  and 
the  human,  to  show  us  suffering  on  its  heavenly  as 
well  as  on  its  earthly  side,  and  to  flood  its  earthly 


THE  DAYSMAN.  279 

side  with  heavenly  light  by  the  revelation.  The 
transfigured  and  the  crucified  Christ  —  Christ  who 
had  not  where  to  lay  his  head,  and  Christ  to  whom 
every  knee  shall  bow  —  are  one  and  the  same. 
Suffering  and  glory  blend  in  him  into  greater 
glory,  and  through  him  God's  suffering  servant 
learns  that  he  suffers  with  him  that  they  may  be 
glorified  together.  In  him  we  have  the  human 
experience  of  sorrow  and  its  divine  interpretation. 
Job's  longing,  therefore,  is  literally  and  fully 
met.  To  the  cry  which  comes  from  that  far-off 
wreck  of  earthly  happiness,  "  He  is  not  a  man  as  I 
am,"  we  can  answer  to-day,  "  He  is  a  man."  To 
the  words,  "  There  is  no  daysman  to  lay  his  hand 
upon  us  both,"  we  answer,  "  There  is  one  God,  and 
one  mediator  between  God  and  man,  —  the  man 
Christ  Jesus."  It  is  the  fashion  to  decry  this  doc- 
trine of  mediation ;  to  say  that  there  is  no  reason 
why  man  should  not  go  directly  to  God  with  his 
sin  and  his  suffering ;  that  God  is  loving  and  mer- 
ciful, and  ready  to  forgive.  But  it  is  sometimes 
forgotten  how  much  of  the  knowledge  and  convic- 
tion of  God's  love  and  mercy  are  due  to  Christian 
revelation.  It  will  not  do  for  us  to  receive  our 
ideias  of  pardoning  love  through  Christ,  and  then 
to  turn  our  backs  on  Christ ;  and  I  think  that  this 
Book  of  Job  serves,  among  other  purposes,  to 
bring  before  us  the  picture  of  a  man  with  all  the 
moral  light  of  his  time,  with  a  moral  character 
indorsed  by  God  himself,  and  show  to  us  how 
utterly  helpless  and  hopeless  such  a  man  is  in  his 
relations  to  sin  and  suffering  without  Christ,  how 


280  THE   DAYSMAN. 

his  soul  craves  just  such  a  mediator  as  Christ  is. 
"  The  craving  to  see  God,  and  to  hear  him  speak 
to  us,  is,"  as  has  been  well  said,  "  one  of  the  primi- 
tive, inherent,  and  deepest  intuitions  and  necessi- 
ties of  the  human  heart.  No  student  of  Job  can 
well  believe  that  any  thing  short  of  a  supernatural 
revelation  and  a  mediator  both  human  and  divine, 
can  satisfy  the  needs  of  such  a  creature  as  man  in 
such  a  world  as  this."  Thus,  this  oldest  of  books 
has  its  lesson,  enforced  and  confirmed  by  the  gos- 
pel, for  us  of  this  latter  day,  —  the  lesson  of  the 
need  of  a  mediator.  You  need  him  when  you  come 
to  face  the  fact  of  your  own  sin.  You  will  feel 
your  need  of  Mm  more,  the  more  clearly  you  shall 
see  into  the  terrible  foulness  and  wide,  destructive 
reach  of  sin.  You  will  need  him  to  assure  you  of 
God's  willingness,  yea,  eagerness,  to  receive  and 
pardon,  when,  broken  with  contrition,  you  fear  to 
trust  a  holy  God  for  forgiveness.  You  need  him 
to  accomplish  the  work  of  pardon.  You  cannot 
bear  the  burden  of  your  sin  alone.  You  cannot 
render  an  equivalent  to  divine  justice.  God  must 
be  just  because  he  must  be  true  to  himself;  and 
so  there  is  nothing  for  you  but  either  to  bear  the 
penalty,  or  to  let  some  one  come  in  between  you 
and  God  who  can  bear  it  for  you,  and  say  to  you, 
"  Go  in  peace."  O  my  friend  !  talk-  not  of  mere 
morality  as  answering  this  deepest  need  and  crav- 
ing of  your  humanity.  You  speak  of  the  Sermon 
on  the  Mount  and  its  pure  morality,  and  say  that 
is  your  model.  You  need  no  mediator :  you  will 
live  by  that.     Do  you  remember  who  gave  you 


THE  DAYSMAN.  281 

that  code  ?  and  do  you  not  see  that  the  personal 
Redeemer  and  Saviour  is  behind  and  through  that 
code,  and  that  it  is  practically  ineffective  without 
him  ?  Do  you  not  see,  that,  if  you  take  Christ's 
mediation  from  behind  that  code,  it  takes  on  the 
semblance  of  the  old  tables  of  the  law,  that  the 
Mount  of  Beatitudes  without  Christ  the  Mediator 
is  a  veritable  Sinai  clotlied  with  lightnings?  That 
perfect  code,  so  holy,  just,  and  good,  —  think  you, 
you  will  dare  take  your  unaided  keeping  of  it  into 
court  with  the  God  who  framed  it,  and  without 
the  Christ  who  effectuates  it,  and  be  justified? 
God  forbid  you  should  try  the  experiment ! 

And  you  need  him  in  the  sorrow  of  which, 
sooner  or  later,  all  are  partakers.  Divine  love  in 
clouds  and  hurling  bolts  is  an  awful,  inexplicable 
mystery  without  this  Daysman :  with  him  sorrow 
is  interpreted,  and  what  seems  to  be  wrath  ap- 
pears as  pure  love. 

Despise  not  this  Mediator.  Seek  his  interven- 
tion. Come  and  la}^  the  burden  of  your  sin  and 
of  your  sorrow  alike  on  him ;  and  it  shall  be  with 
you  as  in  the  words  of  Elihu,  —  "  Thou  shalt  pray 
unto  God,  and  he  will  be  favorable  unto  thee  :  and 
thou  shalt  see  his  face  with  joy :  for  he  will  ren- 
der unto  man  his  righteousness.'' 


XYI. 
THE   LESSON   OF   RIPENESS. 


XVI. 

THE   LESSON  OF   RIPENESS. 

"  For  when  by  reason  of  the  time  ye  ought  to  be  teachers,  ye 
have  heed  again  that  some  one  teach  you  the  rudiments  of  the 
first  principles  of  the  oracles  of  God  ;  and  are  become  such  as 
have  need  of  milk,  and  not  of  solid  food."  —  Heb.  v.  12. 

THERE  are  two  clearly  defined  lines  of  teach- 
ing in  the  New  Testament,  which,  on  a  hasty 
view,  might  seem  to  be  contradictory.  In  the  one, 
great  stress  is  laid  on  being  childlike.  Our  Lord 
is  heard  saying,  "Whoso  shall  not  receive  the 
kingdom  of  God  as  a  little  child,  he  shall  not 
enter  therein ; "  and,  "  except  ye  be  converted, 
and  become  as  little  children,  ye  shall  not  enter 
into  the  kingdom  of  heaven."  Moreover,  he  in- 
sists on  this  quality  as  a  condition  of  spiritual 
knowledge,  and  thanks  the  Father  that  he  has 
hidden  the  great  truths  of  the  kingdom  from  the 
wise  and  prudent,  and  has  revealed  them  unto 
babes.  On  the  other  hand,  we  read  such  words 
as  these :  "  That  we  may  be  no  longer  children, 
tossed  to  and  fro  and  carried  about  with  every 
wind  of  doctrine ; "  and  again,  "  Therefore  let  us 
cease  to  speak  of  the  first  principles  of  Christ,  and 
press  on  unto  perfection ; "  and  once  more,  "•  Till 

285 


286  THE  LESSON  OF  RIPENESS. 

we  attain  unto  the  unity  of  the  faith,  and  of  the 
knowledge  of  the  Son  of  God,  unto  a  fuUgrown 
man,  unto  the  measure  of  the  stature  of  the  ful- 
ness of  Christ." 

The  two  are  not  contradictory,  but  are,  rather, 
in  complete  harmony.  They  are  only  different 
sides  of  one  and  the  same  truth.  On  the  one  side, 
a  Christian  is  never  to  lose  the  simplicity,  the 
trustfulness,  the  guilelessness,  of  childhood.  His 
growth  must  always  be  in  the  direction  of  these. 
If  being  as  a  little  child  is  a  condition  of  entering 
the  kingdom  of  God,  it  is  equally  a  condition  of 
abiding  in  that  kingdom.  If  a  Christian  does  not 
grow  in  his  sense  of  helplessness,  and  of  depend- 
ence upon  the  power  of  God  and  the  sympathy  of 
Christ,  he  does  not  grow  in  the  right  direction. 
But,  on  the  other  hand.  Christian  life,  like  natural 
life,  implies  progress.  No  man  receives  the  ful- 
ness of  the  kingdom  of  God  at  once.  There  is  an 
infancy  and  a  childhood  of  Christian  experience ; 
a  feeble  grasp  of  faith  before  the  stronger  grasp  ; 
an  imperfect  spiritual  seeing  before  the  clearer 
vision ;  ignorance  of  the  weakness  of  the  human 
spirit  and  of  the  devices  of  Satan,  which  gives 
way  before  the  results  of  larger  experience ;  su- 
perficial conceptions  of  the  word  of  God,  which 
are  slowly  replaced  by  firm  apprehension  of  that 
Word  as  spirit  and  life.  As  in  the  family,  the 
child,  from  being  taught,  gradually  grows  into 
a  position  of  authority,  from  being  directed  by 
others,  becomes  self-determining,  and  has  a  voice 
and  an  influence  in  the  counsels  of  men ;  so,  in 


TUE  LESSON  OF  RIPENESS.  287 

the  great  family  of  God,  Cliristiaii  maturity  and 
its  accompaniments  are  recognized  facts,  —  attain- 
ments which  the  gospel  treats  not  merely  as  privi- 
leges, but  as  obligations.  There  is  a  Christian 
manhood,  in  short,  which  is  expected  and  required 
of  the  child  of  God,  in  which,  from  being  a  recipi- 
ent of  gospel  influences,  he  is  to  become  their 
defender,  their  illustrator,  and  their  propagator. 
This  is  the  truth  for  our  consideration.  It  is 
embodied  in  these  words  of  the  text,  addressed 
to  those  who  had  been  for  a  good  while  under 
gospel  training :  "  Ye  ought  to  be  teachers."  Let 
us  look  at  — 

The  duty  of  being  Christian  teachers ; 

The  reason  for  that  duty ; 

Some  specific  features  of  that  duty. 

Ye^  as  followers  and  disciples  of  Christ,  ought 
to  be  teachers.  One  reason  why  Christ  found  it 
expedient  to  go  away  in  person  from  the  world, 
was,  that  the  number  of  teaching-centres  might  be 
multiplied.  If  he  had  remained  in  the  world,  and 
depended  upon  his  own  personal  instructions  for 
success,  he  would  have  reached  comparatively  few. 
Instead  of  this,  he  sent  the  Holy  Spirit,  not  con- 
fined to  place,  but  working  simultaneously  at 
many  points,  in  order  to  inform  the  hearts  and 
minds  of  men,  and  to  make  every  Christian,  in 
some  sense,  a  teacher.  As  plainly  as  words  could 
speak,  he  laid  the  burden  of  diffusing  the  gospel 
upon  his  church.  "  Ye,"  he  said  to  his  disciples, 
'•'"ye  are  the  salt  of  the  earth.  Ye  are  the  light  of 
the  world."     Men  are  taught  by  the  gospel  that 


288  THE  LESSON   OF  RIPENESS. 

their  responsibility  does  not  cease  with  their  own 
salvation ;  that  they  cannot  live  out  their  Chris- 
tian lives  simj^ly  with  reference  to  God  and  to 
themselves ;  that,  from  the  fact  of  their  being 
members  of  society,  they  exert  power  for  good  or 
for  evil  over  other  lives;  that  they  cannot  be 
Christians,  and  not  teach. 

And  that  which  is  a  necessity,  growing  out  of 
the  laws  of  human  contact,  Christ  wants  every 
Christian  to  take  consciously  into  his  life  as  a 
principle,  and  conscientiously  to  use  and  improve 
that  necessity  for  the  extension  of  Christian  truth 
and  the  development  of  Christian  Hfe. 

Thus  the  position  and  duty  of  each  Christian, 
as  a  teacher,  are  laid  down  among  the  very  rudi- 
ments of  the  gospel.     "  Ye  ought  to  be  teachers." 

But  this  duty  is  here  urged  by  one  considera- 
tion merely,  to  which  we  may  confine  ourselves. 
The  familiar  rendering,  '•'•for  the  time^  ye  ought  to 
be  teachers,"  entirely  obscures  the  force  of  the 
passage.  One  would  naturally  draw  from  it  the 
sense  of  "  for  the  time  being ; "  as  if  the  duty  of 
Christian  teaching  were  a  temporary  matter  or  a 
thing  of  special  occasions,  instead  of  being  of  per- 
manent and  universal  obligation.  The  meaning' 
is,  rather,  "  by  reason  of  the  time ;  "  that  is,  be- 
cause you  have  been  for  a  long  time  under  Chris- 
tian influence,  listening  to  Christian  doctrine, 
versed  in  Christian  experience  :  by  reason  of  the 
time  which  has  passed  since  you  became  Christian 
disciples,  you  ought  to  be  teachers.  Here  there 
is  the  plain  statement  of  a  general  principle :  that 


THE  LESSON  OF  RIPENESS.  289 

Christian  knowledge  and  Christian  experience  ought 
to  he  so  developed  hy  time  as  to  become  instructive 
and  helpful  to  others. 

Time  is  an  element  of  all  growth ;  and,  wherever 
there  is  growth,  we  expect  fruitage  as  the  outcome 
of  time.  We  are  surprised  and  disappointed  if  the 
man  who  has  been  for  a  score  of  years  engaged  in 
business  remains  the  mere  petty  shopkeeper  he 
was  at  the  first,  and  does  not  become  a  power  in 
trade,  a  creator  of  new  industry,  a  maker  of  wealth. 
We  do  not  expect  the  apprenticed  mechanic  to  be 
always  an  apprentice  or  an  underling.  Time  is 
needed  to  teach  him  how  to  handle  tools,  and  to 
make  him  acquainted  with  the  capacity  of  mate- 
rials :  but,  with  the  time,  we  expect  to  see  him  a 
master-workman ;  we  look  for  him  to  develop  new 
resources  out  of  his  material,  and  new  methods  of 
treating  it,  and  thus  to  become  a  teacher  to  his 
craft.  The  man  who  through  all  his  years  is 
merely  acquiring  knowledge,  and  does  not  come  in 
process  of  time  to  give  it  out,  may  be  a  prodigy  of 
learning,  but  he  is  also  a  prodigy  of  uselessness, 
no  better  than  so  much  lumber.  And  the  same 
principle  runs  up  into  the  moral  and  spiritual  realm, 
and  prevails  there.  There  is,  as  I  have  said,  an 
infancy  and  a  childhood  of  Christian  life  in  which 
we  may  expect  to  see  uncertain  walking,  crude 
conceptions  of  truth,  unwise  zeal,  and  undisciplined 
character;  but  we  have  a  right  to  be  astonished 
and  dismayed,  if,  after  years  of  experience,  that 
character  is  no  less  crude  than  at  the  beginning. 
Wlien  time  brings  to  Christian  character  nothing 


290  THE   LESSON   OF  RIPENESS. 

but  childhood,  we  are  entitled  to  regard  it  as  we 
regard  the  second  childhood  which  waits  upon 
human  age.  We  have  a  right  to  expect,  as  the 
result  of  years,  larger  and  clearer  views  of  truth, 
better  defined  conviction,  more  self-mastery,  more 
practical  efficiency,  and  more  consistency  of  life.  I 
know  that  the  mere  passage  of  time  does  not  l)ring 
all  this  to  pass.  Age  and  maturity  are  not  the 
same  things ;  but  the  gift  of  time  in  the  Christian 
economy  is  accompanied  with  a  charge  and  obliga- 
tion to  redeem  the  time.  Time  is  a  trust.  You 
remember  Peter's  words:  "If  ye  call  on  him  as 
Father,  who  without  respect  of  persons  judgeth 
according  to  each  man's  work,  pass  the  time  of 
your  sojourning  in  fear:  knowing  that  ye  were 
redeemed  with  the  precious  blood  of  Christ."  In 
other  words,  the  time  of  life  is  to  be  passed  in 
godly  sobriety  and  activity,  because  life  has  been 
redeemed  at  the  price  of  Clirist's  blood ;  and  life 
thus  redeemed  is  a  sacred  trust  to  be  accounted  for 
to  our  Father,  God,  who  is  a  strict  judge  of  every 
man's  work.  The  same  truth  is  brought  out  in 
the  parable  of  the  talents.  The  element  of  time 
enters  there.  Time  is  given  to  the  several  ser- 
vants, as  well  as  five  and  two  talents;  and  time, 
enters  into  the  general  reckoning.  The  time  given 
is  an  element  of  the  responsibility :.  "  After  a  long 
time^  the  lord  of  those  servants  cometh,  and  reckon- 
eth  with  them  ; "  and  then  it  appears  that  time,  in 
the  Lord's  mind,  meant  business,  exchange,  invest- 
ment, profit.  The  servant  who  had  failed  to  catch 
this  meaning,  and  had  given  his  time  to  something 


THE  LESSON  OF  RIPENESS.  291 

else  than  his  talent,  found  himself  in  sorry  plight 
at  the  end.  The  man  who  represents  mere  time  is 
one  of  the  most  pitiable  of  spectacles.  The  simple 
fact  that  he  is  old  entitles  him  to  no  respect 
beyond  tliat  which  common  humanity  pays  to 
weakness.  Old  age  is  one  of  the  loveliest  things 
in  this  world  when  it  stands  in  front  of  an  earnest 
life,  during  which  it  has  gathered  sweetness  out  of 
sorrow,  charity  out  of  contact  with  men,  and  wis- 
dom out  of  experience ;  but  old  age  divorced  from 
character  is  not  even  respectable.  And,  if  that  is 
true  in  general,  it  is  pre-eminently  true  in  the  Chris- 
tian sphere.  It  is  a  sad  thing  when  a  man  has 
been  before  the  world  for  long  years  as  a  professed 
follower  and  disciple  of  Christ,  and  when  all  he 
has  to  show  for  it  is  that  he  is  very  old.  Length 
of  days,  be  it  remembered,  is  in  the  right  hand  of 
wisdom. 

And  now  let  us  look  at  a  few  of  the  points  in 
which,  by  reason  of  time,  a  Christian  ought  to 
be  a  teacher. 

He  ought  to  be  a  teacher  by  reason  of  a  ma- 
tured faith,  and  that  under  three  aspects  :  — 

1.  In  respect  of  his  own  asswance  of  Christian 
truth.  A  man,  in  this  age,  who  does  not  encounter 
much  that  is  fresh  and  even  startling  in  this  depart- 
ment, can  hardly  be  said  to  be  alive.  One  who, 
in  the  course  of  an  average  life,  has  not  changed  or 
modified  some  of  his  views  of  Christian  truth  and 
doctrine,  can  hardly  be  said  to  have  grown.  A 
great  deal  of  the  truth  of  Scripture  is  given  germi- 
nally,  as  a  seed  which  keeps  throwing  out  new 


292  THE  LESSON  OF  RIPENESS. 

growths  in  the  course  of  years.  The  Saviour  said 
that  there  were  things  which  his  disciples  could 
not  understand  at  the  time,  but  which  would  be 
clear  to  them  later.  God  often  gives  a  central 
core  of  truth,  and  then  leaves  it  for  human  research 
to  formulate  the  truth.  For  example,  he  lays  down 
the  truth,  that  all  things  were  made  by  him ; 
that  the  universe  is  ultimately  the  result  of  his 
creative  will.  Science  investigates,  and  attempts 
to  explain  the  physical  facts  of  creation.  The 
Bible  gives  us  no  information  about  God's  methods. 
Science  may  discover  the  method  if  it  is  able ;  and 
it  is  reasonable,  that  science  should  give  us  new 
light  on  these  methods,  and  should  modify  or 
change  our  views  concerning  them.  To  all  that 
new  light,  we  may  rightly  open  our  windows.  All 
that  we  are  asked  to  hold  by  as  Christians  is  that 
core  of  truth,  that  our  Creator,  and  the  world's 
Creator,  is  the  ever-living  God.  So  the  integrity 
of  the  Bible,  as  the  word  of  God,  is  a  distinct  thing 
from  certain  questions  about  the  Bible.  It  is  not 
affected  by  the  showing  of  biblical  criticism  that 
Solomon  did,  or  did  not,  write  the  Book  of  Ecclesi- 
astes,  or  Paul  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews,  or  that 
the  Pentateuch  was,  or  was  not,  made  up  of  a  serie^ 
of  documents.  On  such  questions,  we  have  a  right 
to  hold  ourselves  open  to  all  the  light  which  ear- 
nest scholarship  can  give  us ;  and  it  would  be 
strange  indeed  if  some  of  our  traditional  views 
were  not  greatly  modified,  or  even  entirely  changed. 
But  we  profess  to  be  Christians,  and  by  that 
profession  we  avow  our  faith  in  a  certain  body  of 


THE  LESSON  OF  RIPENESS.  293 

truth.  Its  elements,  indeed,  are  few  and  simple, 
but  they  are  fundamental;  and  our  Christianity- 
takes  all  its  character  and  all  its  meaning  from 
them.  Our  Christianity,  if  it  has  any  meaning  at 
all,  means  Christ,  the  divine  Son  of  God,  and  not  a 
mere  man  like  ourselves.  It  means  Christ  taking 
our  human  nature  on  himself,  Christ  living  in  our 
world,  Christ  crucified,  Christ  risen  from  the  dead, 
Christ  ascended  to  heaven  and  living  there  forever, 
and  Christ  the  Judge  of  quick  and  dead.  It  means 
God,  our  Creator  and  everlasting  Father,  and  the 
presence  and  energy  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  It  means 
salvation  through  faith  in  a  crucified  Redeemer. 
Whatever  leaves  this  out  is  not  Christianity.  To 
the  world,  these  may  still  be  open  questions ;  to  us 
as  Christians  they  cannot  be  open  questions,  any 
more  than  the  foundations  of  a  house  can  be  left 
to  be  finished  while  the  superstructure  is  going  up. 
The  whole  superstructure  takes  its  shape  and  its 
security  from  the  foundations ;  and  whatever  Christ 
may  be  to  others,  if  he  is  not  the  chief  corner-stone 
of  our  moral  and  spiritual  life,  that  life  has  no  set- 
tled basis  and  no  consistency.  And  if  our  Chris- 
tian profession  during  all  these  years  has  been 
any  thing  more  than  a  name  or  a  form,  if  it  has 
been,  as  our  very  profession  implies,  a  living,  gen- 
uine experience  of  the  saving  power  and  daily 
grace  and  sympathy  of  Christ,  we  ought  by  this 
time  to  have  reached  settled  convictions  on  these 
points.  We  cannot  be  teachers  otherwise.  True, 
effective  teaching  is  bound  up  with  the  teacher's 
conviction  of  the  truth.     Teaching  is  something 


294  THE   LESSON   OF  RIPENESS. 

more  than  repeating  lessons  from  books.  In  every 
kind  of  teaching,  success  is  measured  by  the  degree 
in  which  the  truth  has  become  a  part  of  the  teacher 
himself.  A  truth  suffers  even  by  the  advocacy  of 
a  man  whom  it  does  not  possess.  And  this  is 
pre-eminently  true  of  Christian  teaching.  The 
instructive  j)ower  of  the  gospel  resides  very 
largely  in  the  lives  which  it  shapes  and  pervades 
and  propels.  The  life  is  the  light  of  men.  Ye 
ought  to  be  teachers,  but  ye  will  not  be  if  the 
gospel  is  still  an  open  question  to  you.  Ye  will 
not  be  if  your  attitude  towards  its  foundation- 
truths  is  that  of  suspense. 

You  know  and  acknowledge  the  power  there  is 
in  profound  conviction.  In  the  discussion  of  social 
or  political  questions,  you  know  how  deeply  you 
are  often  moved,  even  by  a  man  who  represents 
what  you  do  not  believe,  but  who  himself  believes 
it  with  his  whole  heart,  and  speaks  out  of  the 
abundance  of  his  heart.  Conviction  carries  power. 
And,  I  repeat,  this  is  not  a  matter  of  words  only. 
Most  of  you,  if  you  teach  at  all,  will  do  it  mOre 
by  your  life  than  by  your  words ;  and  you  cannot 
keep  your  life  apart  from  your  conviction  of  Chris- 
tian truth,  or  from  your  want  of  conviction.  If 
your  basis  of  Christian  life  is  an  open  question, 
the  uncertainty  and  suspense  will  get  into  your 
living.  The  New  Testament  recognizes  a  direct 
relation  between  faith  and  conscience.  Paul  writes 
to  Timothy  that  "•  the  end  of  the  charge  is  love 
out  of  a  pure  heart  and  a  good  conscience  and 
faith  unfeigned ; "  and  Peter  told  the  council  at 


THE  LESSON  OF  RIPENESS.  295 

Jerusalem  that  God  cleansed  the  heart  by  faith. 
And  therefore  faith  which  purifies  the  heart  and 
the  conscience  is  the  mainspring  of  right  living ; 
for  out  of  the  heart  are  the  issues  of  life ;  and 
weakness  or  vagueness  of  faith  will  get  into  the 
conscience,  and  will  issue  in  weak  and  vague  liv- 
ing, and  therefore  will  take  out  of  the  life  its  great 
power  of  witnessing.  Paul,  in  that  same  letter  to 
Timothy,  tells  us  how  well  such  faith  as  that 
worked  for  teaching,  —  "  The  end  of  the  charge  is 
love  out  of  a  pure  heart  and  a  good  conscience 
and  faith  unfeigned :  from  which  things  some  hav- 
ing swerved  have  turned  aside  unto  vain  talking ; 
desiring  to  be  teachers  of  the  law,  though  they 
understand  neither  what  they  say,  nor  whereof 
they  confidently  affirm." 

2.  Again,  time  ought  to  develop  faith,  in  the 
sense  of  spiritual  discernmefit,  —  clearer  perception 
of  the  things  of  the  unseen  world.  That  is  some- 
tliing  different  from  a  man's  feeling  that  he  is 
growing  old,  and  realizing  that  his  friends  are 
dropping  around  him,  and  that  he  must  soon  die. 
Any  man  will  be  made  to  feel  that  in  the  course 
of  nature.  The  seaman  may  see  the  rocks  and 
shores  fast  falling  behind,  and  hear  the  roar  of  the 
surf,  and  yet  have  no  outlook  ahead.  The  outlook 
is  one  of  the  great  things  in  Christian  experience. 
As  by  reason  of  the  time  the  old  scenes  and  the 
old  friends  fall  into  the  background,  we  ought  to 
be  getting  clearer  views  of  the  great  moral  and 
spiritual  truths  which  have  their  roots  in  the 
unseen  world,  and  a  deeper  sense  of  their  impor- 


296  THE  LESSON   OF  RIPENESS. 

tance  and  power.  It  is  not  strange  if  a  young 
Christian  simply  believes  in  the  things  which  are 
not  seen.  It  is  strange  if  the  older  Christian  does 
not  feel  the  power  of  the  world  to  come.  It  is  one 
thing  to  assent  to  the  truth  that  "  the  things  which 
are  not  seen  are  eternal ; "  it  is  anpther  thing  to 
apprehend  that  truth,  and  to  take  it  into  life  as  a 
working  principle ;  to  realize  that  the  things  on 
which  heaven  stamps  a  value  —  love  and  faith 
and  purity  and  truth  and  good  conscience  —  are 
the  paramount  things,  and  to  make  every  thing 
give  way  to  these. 

That  kind  of  spiritual  seeing  has  a  teaching- 
power.  It  is  of  the  very  essence  of  all  teaching 
that  the  man  who  sees  what  we  do  not  see,  brings 
us  to  his  feet  to  learn.  When  we  want  to  know 
about  the  stars,  we  go  to  the  scholar  who  has  the 
telescope.  And  the  life  which  one  lives  by  faith 
in  the  unseen,  teaches.  It  does  what  all  true 
teaching  must  do,  —  it  excites  attention,  it  awak- 
ens inquiry,  it  communicates  enthusiasm.  Paul 
says,  "  Our  conversation,  or  our  citizenship,  is  in 
heaven."  The  stranger  who  tarries  among  us  for 
a  little  while,  born  of  another  race,  subject  to 
another  government,  clad  in  another  costume, 
receiving  his  instructions  from  beyond  the  sea, 
all  his  hopes  and  interests  centring  in  that  coun- 
try which  he  sees  with  his  mind's  eye,  all  his 
expectation  converging  towards  his  return  thither, 
—  that  stranger  is  a  marked  man.  He  awakens 
our  curiosity  to  know  something  of  his  country 
and  institutions ;  and,  as  we    talk  with  him,  we 


THE  LESSON  OF  RIPENESS.  297 

catch  something  of  the  flavor  of  that  land  which 
we  never  caught  from  the  descriptions  of  our 
geographies.  A  ripened  Christian,  with  his  citi- 
zenship in  heaven,  brings  to  us  in  like  manner  the 
flavor  of  the  heavenly  world.  The  world  learns 
how  a  man  may  live  and  thrive  on  meat  which 
they  know  not  of;  learns  the  power  there  is  in 
those  heavenly  qualities  of  meekness  and  faith, 
and  poverty  of  spirit,  which  seem  to  it  so  puerile ; 
learns  how  he  can  endure  as  seeing  Him  who  is 
invisible.  A  quality  steals  into  his  life  and  words 
which  gives  the  worldly  man  hints  of  a  country 
strange  to  him,  and  a  subtle  attraction  gets  into 
his  life  which  affects  the  most  world-hardened 
heart. 

3.  And  time  ought  to  have  ripened  faith  in  the 
sense  of  restfulness.  We  count  it  strange  if  natu- 
ral manhood  does  not  bring  with  it  increased  com- 
posure, tranquillity,  balance.  Shall  we  count  it 
any  less  strange  if,  with  the  lapse  of  time,  Chris- 
tian manhood  does  not  become  better  poised,  more 
restful  and  quiet,  less  easily  thrown  off  its  balance  ? 
Have  we  not  had  experience  enough  of  God's 
strength  to  make  us  settle  down  on  it,  and  trust  it  ? 
Have  we  not  found  out  so  well  how  much  better 
he  can  take  care  of  us  than  we  can  take  care  of 
ourselves,  that  we  have  learned,  not  only  to  put 
ourselves  in  his  hands  on  occasion,  but  to  stay 
there  all  the  while,  and  to  be  uneasy  only  when  we 
do  not  feel  the  pressure  of  the  Everlasting  Arms  ? 
That  kind  of  restfulness  has  a  teaching-power. 
You  know  how  naturally,  in  any  time  of  danger  or 


298  THE  LESSON  OF  RIPENESS. 

confusion,  all  eyes  turn  to  the  man  who  is  calm 
and  self-poised.  Even  the  gay,  dissolute  heathen 
poet  had  learned  to  admire  the  man  just  and  firm 
of  purpose,  and  eloquently  pictiu'ed  him  as  one 
whom  neither  mobs,  nor  the  frown  of  tyrants,  nor 
the  wrath  of  storms,  nor  even  the  world  falling  in 
ruins,  could  disturb ;  ^  but  a  higher  lesson  is  taught 
by  him  who  can  say,  "  Who  shall  separate  us  from 
the  love  of  Christ  ?  shall  tribulation  or  anguish 
or  persecution  or  famine  or  nakedness  or  peril  or 
sword  ?  Nay,  in  all  these  things  we  are  more  than 
conquerors  through  him  that  loved  us.  For  I  am 
persuaded,  that  neither  death,  nor  life,  nor  angels, 
nor  principalities,  nor  things  present,  nor  things 
to  come,  nor  powers,  nor  height,  nor  depth,  nor 
any  other  creature,  shall  be  able  to  separate  us  from 
the  love  of  God,  which  is  in  Christ  Jesus  our 
Lord."  We  are  seeking  rest.  These  men  who  have 
come  to  Christ,  and  have  found  rest,  have  power  to 
teach  us,  and  to  tell  us  where  to  find  it.  We 
Christians,  who  by  reason  of  time  should  have 
entered  deeply  into  this  rest,  ought  to  be  teachers. 
By  reason  of  the  time,  a  Christian  ought  to 
have  been  confirmed  in  the  habit  of  communion 
with  Qod.  Our  hymn  says,  that  "  prayer  is  the 
Christian's  vital  breath,"  and  that  he  learns  to 
pray,  as  to  breathe,  when  first  he  lives.  That  is 
true.  But  you  know  that  an  infant's  breath  is 
feeble.  Prayer  is  a  subject  of  discipline.  No  man 
learns  all  its  resources  at  once.     No  man  learns  how 

1  Horace,  Ode  3,  b.  III. 


THE   LESSON   OF  RIPENESS.  299 

to  pray  as  he  ought  all  at  once.  To  a  young  Chris- 
tian, prayer  is  commonly  a  matter  of  systematic 
observance  ;  and  that  is  a  good  thing.  It  is  a  part 
of  his  training  in  the  art ;  but  it  usually  takes 
time  to  make  prayer  the  atmosphere  of  the  life, 
and  communion  with  God  the  habit  of  the  soul. 
A  young  Christian  is  very  likely  to  call  in  God 
after  he  has  done  his  very  best  in  something,  and 
has  found  his  own  strength  fall  short.  A  ripened 
Christian  begins  by  assuming  that  his  own  strength 
is  perfect  weakness,  and  so  calls  in  God  at  once. 
I  have  somewhere  seen  a  little  story  of  a  king  who 
had  employed  some  people  to  weave  for  him,  had 
supplied  them  the  materials  and  the  patterns,  and 
had  told  them,  that,  if  they  were  ever  in  trouble 
about  their  work,  they  were  to  come  to  him  with- 
out fear.  Among  those  at  the  looms  was  a  child  ; 
and  one  day,  when  all  the  rest  were  distressed  at 
the  sight  of  the  tangles  in  their  yarn,  they  gath- 
ered round  the  child,  and  asked,  "  Why  are  you  so 
happy  at  your  work  ?  These  constant  tangles  are 
more  than  we  can  bear."  —  "  Why  do  you  not  tell 
the  king  ?  "  said  the  little  weaver.  "  He  told  us 
to,  and  that  he  would  help  us."  —  "  We  do,"  replied 
they,  "  at  night  and  at  morning."  —  "  Ah  I  "  said  the 
child,  "  I  send  directly  whenever  I  have  a  tangle." 
Brethren,  we  ought  to  have  reached  that  point  by 
reason  of  time,  —  that  habit  of  referring  every- 
thing at  07ice  and  directly  to  God ;  just  as,  when  we 
are  walking  with  a  friend,  we  naturally  refer  to 
him  every  matter  of  interest  as  it  comes  up.  That 
habit  of  communion  with  heaven  sets  its  mark  on 


300  THE  LESSON  OF  RIPENESS. 

the  life  and  invests  it  with  a  teaching-power.  If 
one  draws  from  cultured  associations  a  quality 
which  impresses  itself  on  other  minds  in  a  way 
they  cannot  understand,  surely  familiar  converse 
with  heaven  will  impart  its  quality  to  a  Christian. 
Cowper's  lines  are  worth  quoting :  — 

"  When  one  who  holds  communion  with  the  skies 
Has  filled  his  urn  where  those  pure  waters  rise, 
And  once  more  mingles  with  these  meaner  things, 
'Tis  e'en  as  if  an  angel  shook  his  wings  : 
Immortal  fragrance  fills  the  circuit  wide. 
And  tells  us  whence  these  treasures  were  supplied." 

By  reason  of  time,  a  Christian  should  have  be- 
come a  teacher  in  the  matter  of  habitual  consis- 
tence/ of  life^  obedience^  and  docility. 

Surely,  surely,  though  the  patience  of  God  is 
wonderful,  and  the  grace  of  God  abounding,  we 
should  not  continue  in  sin  that  grace  may  abound. 
True,  we  shall  be  erring  mortals  to  the  very  end, 
compassed  about  with  infirmity.  True,  no  day 
will  ever  pass  but  that,  to  the  prayer,  "  Give  us 
our  daily  bread,"  we  shall  need  to  add,  "  Forgive 
us  our  debts."  But  certainly,  by  reason  of  time, 
we  should  have  gained  some  power  over  tempta- 
tion in  the  course  of  our  experience  of  temptation. 
We  should  have  learned  to  keep  habitually  away 
from  the  paths  where  we  have  stumbled  and  fallen. 
It  is  strange,  something  is  wrong,  if  we  are  still 
committing  and  repenting  of  the  same  old  sins 
which  we  began  to  fight  long  ago.  As  the  lines  of 
that  living  epistle  which  we  began  writing  when 
we    entered   Christ's   service    creep  farther  down 


THE  LESSON   OF  RIPENESS.  301 

the  page,  they  ought  to  be  more  fairly  and  even- 
ly written.  In  short,  though  we  shall  never  be 
perfect  men  and  women,  though  the  nearer  we  get 
to  Christ,  the  less  we  shall  be  pleased  with  our- 
selves, —  yet  we  ought  to  be  better  men  and  women 
by  reason  of  the  time,  and,  by  our  better  living  of 
the  gospel,  be  teachers  to  those  about  us. 

And,  by  reason  of  the  time,  we  ought  to  be 
broader  in  our  charity.  Our  own  experience 
ought  to  have  given  us  an  insight  into  our  own 
weakness  and  fallibility,  and  to  have  made  us  cor- 
respondingly tolerant  of  the  weakness  and  falli- 
bility of  our  brother  men.  Where  we  have 
stumbled  so  often,  we  shall  not  jeer  when  a  brother 
stumbles.  It  was  to  those  very  Christians  who 
had  made  the  greatest  attainments  in  the  Christian 
life,  that  Paul  referred  for  restoration  those  who 
should  be  taken  in  a  fault :  "  Ye  tvhich  are  spirit- 
ual, restore  such  an  one  in  the  spirit  of  meekness." 
He  knew  that  real  spiritual  maturity,  so  far  from 
making  one  censorious  and  self-righteous,  turned 
him  upon  his  own  heart  to  consider  its  weakness, 
and  made  him  the  best  and  most  sympathizing 
helper  to  his  fallen  brother. 

Ye  ought  to  be  teachers.  There  ought  to  be 
more  fruit  of  Christian  maturity  in  the  church  of 
Christ.  How  a  church,  made  up  largely  of  Chris- 
tians who  have  tasted  the  good  word  of  God  and 
the  powers  of  the  world  to  come,  and  in  whom 
years  have  wrought,  along  with  God's  processes  of 
discipline,  to  compact  and  balance  and  ripen  char- 
acter, —  how  such  a  church  ought  to  tell  on  the 


302  THE   LESSON  OF  RIPENESS. 

community !  —  a  church  of  teachers  as  well  as  of 
learners,  teaching  by  godly  life  and  conversation  ; 
teaching  by  the  poise  and  symmetry  of  charac- 
ter ;  teaching  by  calm  courage  and  steady  persist- 
ence ;  teaching  by  the  power  of  a  faith  wliich  links 
their  life  with  the  principles,  the  motives,  the  joys, 
the  aims,  and  the  hopes,  of  heaven ;  teaching  by 
their  solid  grounding  in  the  word  of  God,  and  in 
the  great  truths  of  redemption :  this  is  no  fanciful 
ideal,  no  chimera  of  a  religious  enthusiast.  It  is 
the  pattern  of  a  Clmstian  church  held  up  by  in- 
spiration itself.  The  word  of  the  apostle  comes  to 
us  this  morning  (God  grant  it  may  come  with 
fresh  meaning  under  the  power  of  the  Spirit !)  : 
"  That  we  may  be  no  longer  children,  tossed  to 
and  fro  and  carried  about  with  every  wind  of  doc- 
trine, by  the  sleight  of  men,  in  craftiness,  after  the 
wiles  of  error ;  but  speaking  truth  in  love,  may 
grow  up  in  all  things  into  him,  which  is  the  head, 
even  Christ." 


XYII. 

STRENGTH,  VICTORY,   AND   KNOWL- 
EDGE  IN   YOUTH. 


XVII. 

STRENGTH,  VICTORY,   AND   KNOWLEDGE 
IN  YOUTH. 

"  I  write  unto  you,  young  men,  because  ye  have  overcome  the 
evil  one.  ...  I  have  written  unto  you,  young  men,  because  ye 
are  strong,  and  the  word  of  God  abideth  in  you,  and  ye  have 
overcome  the  evil  one."  —  1  John  ii.  13,  14. 

COUNSEL  is  the  prerogative  of  age.  Chris- 
tianity is  pre-eminently  an  experience.  That 
which  is  most  quickening  in  it  is  born  of  experi- 
ence ;  and  experience,  in  its  turn,  is  born  of  years. 
It  is  not  strange,  therefore,  that  the  venerable 
John  should  assert  the  privilege  of  his  age,  no 
less  than  of  his  position,  in  writing  to  young- 
men.  These  are  Christian  young  men  whom  he 
addresses.  They  have  overcome  the  Evil  One,  and 
the  word  of  God  abideth  in  them.  Nevertheless, 
they  are  not,  for  that  reason,  beyond  the  necessity 
of  wise  counsel.  Youth  may,  and  does  often,  serve 
Christ  loyally ;  but  it  cannot  fully  appreciate  the 
quality  and  reach  of  Christ's  mastery.  Youth  may 
be  taught,  and  may  believe,  that  Christ's  person 
and  truth  are  the  very  core  and  kernel  of  all  life 
and  of  all  history ;  but  time  alone  makes  them 
realize  that  Christ  not  only  fits  everywhere,  but 

305 


306  STRENGTH   IN  YOUTH. 

gives  the  law  everywhere.  Youth  may  be  told,  and 
may  acknowledge,  that  the  world  passeth  away ; 
but  it  does  not  feel  it,  and  especially  it  does  not 
feel  that  the  desire  of  the  world  is  passing  away. 
Age  knows  that  it  is  passing  away,  because,  for  it 
so  much  of  the  world  has  already  drifted  out  of 
sight ;  and  therefore  the  claims  of  the  will  of  God, 
as  against  the  love  of  the  world,  come  with  no  such 
emphasis  as  from  the  lips  of  age. 

But  we  are  concerned  this  morning,  not  so  much 
with  the  counsels  of  this  aged  and  beloved  ajDostle 
as  with  the  assumptions  which  underlie  them,  and 
which,  as  it  seems  to  me,  are  quite  out  of  the  line 
of  our  popular  Christian  sentiment. 

For  we  commonly  look  upon  youth  as  a  season 
of  tutelage.  Whatever  we  may  concede  to  it,  — 
and  we  concede  very  much,  as  will  shortly  appear, 
—  we  regard  it  as  unripe.  Even  from  the  religious 
stand-point,  we  look  upon  youth  as  militant,  rather 
than  as  victorious.  The  fight  with  the  Evil  One  is 
upon  them ;  but  the  victory,  we  take  for  granted, 
is  in  the  future.  We  are  disposed  to  be  lenient 
when  the  Evil  One  gets  the  upper  hand  for  the 
time.  We  do  not  expect  them  to  have  the  word 
of  God  abiding  in  them,  to  be  possessed  by  the 
spirit  and  power  of  the  Word.  We  accept  the 
partial  and  remittent  influence  of  the  Word  upon 
them  as  a  necessity  of  their  age.  We  know  they 
are  strong;  but  we  do  not  expect  them  to  be  strong 
in  God,  and  in  the  power  of  his  might. 

Are  we  right  in  this  view  of  the  religious  possi- 
bilities of  youth  ?     Certainly  not,  if  our  apostle  is 


STRENGTH   IN  YOUTH.  307 

right ;  for  this  assumption  of  ours  directly  contra- 
dicts his.  He  addresses  the  young  men  as  strong, 
as  having  overcome  the  Evil  One,  as  having  the 
word  of  God  abiding  in  them.  Is  he  thinking  of 
a  few  exceptional  young  men  ?  He  does  not  put 
the  matter  in  that  way.  He  writes  to  the  Chris- 
tian youth  of  the  Church  generally.  If  he  had  said 
only,  "  Ye  are  strong,"  we  might  have  construed 
his  words  to  mean  merely  the  native  freshness 
and  vigor  of  youth ;  but  his  words  are  of  spiritual 
strength,  spiritual  knowledge,  and  spiritual  victory. 

The  question,  therefore,  is  very  pertinent,  whether 
we  are  justified  in  looking  for  only  a  crude,  feeble 
Christian  development  in  youth ;  whether  we  do 
not  set  the  standard  too  low,  and  therefore  encour- 
age them  to  do  so. 

Now,  in  fact,  we  reason  just  as  John  does,  when 
we  look  at  youth  in  its  relations  to  society.  On 
that  side,  we  frankly  recognize  their  strength,  vic- 
tory, and  susceptibility  to  truth.  As  for  strength, 
young  men  are  accepted  as  important  factors  in 
the  active  and  aggressive  relations  of  life.  They 
are  invited  to  posts  of  responsibility ;  they  occupy 
positions  of  trust  in  business  ;  they  come  to  the 
front  in  politics ;  men  put  their  legal  tangles  into 
the  hands  of  young  lawyers,  and  intrust  their 
own  and  their  children's  lives  to  young  physi- 
cians. 

In  like  manner  we  assume  their  ability  to  re- 
ceive and  apply  the  teachings  of  human  wisdom. 
They  come  under  the  power  of  the  great  masters 
of  thought ;  they  are  set  to  study  Plato  and  Aris- 


308  STRENGTH   IN   YOUTH. 

tntle  and  Kant  in  tlie  schools;  they  discuss  among 
tliemselves  the  theories  of  political  leaders;  they 
read  with  zest  the  writings  of  great  scientists ;  the 
word  of  a  Huxley,  a  T3nidall,  a  Spencer,  abides  in 
them,  and  shapes  their  thought.  They  are  trained 
by  the  masters  of  painting  and  music ;  they  appre- 
ciate the  pictures  of  Murillo  and  Raphael,  and  the 
harmonies  of  Beethoven  and  Wagner. 

So  of  victory.  Youth  overcomes.  It  wins  vic- 
tories in  the  world  of  mind.  It  gains  the  world's 
ear,  and  helps  to  shape  the  world's  opinions.  The 
history  of  great  literary  successes  is  largely  a  his- 
tory of  youthful  triumphs  ;  it  displays  an  intel- 
lectual vigor  equal  to  its  physical  power ;  it  faces 
great  problems  of  practical  life,  and  solves  them  ; 
it  makes  a  place  for  itself  in  spite  of  obstacles. 
In  the  secular  sense,  it  does  overcome  the  world.. 
Youth  exhibits  a  strong  individualism.  There  is 
no  parent  who  has  not  at  some  time  awaked,  as 
out  of  a  dream,  to  the  fact  that  the  children,  whom 
he  had  been  wont  to  regard  as  mere  reflectors  of 
his  opinions  and  practice,  have  developed  a  quality 
of  self-assertion  and  self-determination  ;  that  they 
have  formed  opinions  of  their  own,  and  are  moving 
upon  lines  of  life  and  thought  quite  different  fron) 
his ;  that  they  are  no  longer  integral  parts  of  his 
life,  but  distinct  units.  And,  as  time  goes  on,  he 
finds  that  these  self-determinations  are  not  mere 
caprices,  but  that  they  have  direction  and  con- 
sistency, and  work  themselves  out  to  definite  re- 
sults. In  short,  we  admit  that  strength,  victory, 
mental   receptiveness,  and  power  of  assimilation, 


STRENGTH  IN   YOUTH.  309 

are  characteristics  of  youth,  as  such,  apart  from  all 
its  moral  relations. 

After  we  have  thoroughly  taken  in  this  fact,  we 
may  be  disposed  to  look  again  at  John's  words, 
and  to  ask  why  the  fact  should  not  hold  equally 
on  the  moral  and  religious  side  of  youth:  in  other 
words,  why  youth,  who  are  susceptible  to  the  best 
thoughts  and  principles  of  masters  in  science  and 
art ;  youth,  who  win  intellectual  and  social  and 
material  victories  ;  youth,  who  are  strong  on  every 
other  side,  —  should  be  only  half-mastered  by  the 
word  of  God,  devoid  of  all  spiritual  definiteness 
and  force,  and  mere  defeated  weaklings  in  the 
greatest  of  all  battles,  —  the  battle  with  tempta- 
tion and  sin. 

The  text,  then,  does  certainly  assert  two  things  : 
first,  That  youth  is  a  power;  second,  That  it  is 
a  power  for  holiness.  And  I  hold  its  teaching, 
therefore,  to  be,  that  we  have  a  right  to  expect 
of  our  Christian  youth.  Christian  vigor,  Christian 
knowledge,  and  Christian  victory.  Let  us  look  at 
each  of  these  points. 

I  write  unto  you,  young  men,  because  ye  are 
strong.  There  may  be  strength  without  maturity. 
People  act  uj)on  that  principle  everywhere.  A 
man  who  wants  a  good  horse  looks  out  for  a  young 
horse.  A  lady  who  wants  an  active  and  useful 
servant  does  not  seek  for  an  old  man  or  woman. 
Not  only  so,  but  we  expect  real  and  telling  ser- 
vice from  youth.  The  business  man  who  employs 
a  young  man  as  cashier  or  book-keeper  gives  over 
those  departments   of  the   business   to  him,  and 


310  STRENGTH  IN   YOUTH. 

expects  that  the  books  will  balance,  and  that  the 
finances  will  be  kept  in  order.  He  does  not  expect 
him  to  be  a  weak,  nerveless,  unreliable  element  in 
his  business,  always  making  mistakes,  and  requir- 
ing to  be  helped  on  by  older  men.  He  takes  him 
as  a  power.  Ought  the  case  to  be  any  different 
in  the  church  of  Christ?  Young  men,  I  know, 
cannot  fill  all  places  in  the  church,  even  as  the 
book-keeper  cannot  fill  the  place  of  the  capitalist ; 
but  there  are  places  which  they  can  fill,  and  where 
we  have  a  right  to  expect  that  they  will  be  powers. 
The  work  of  instruction  and  of  counsel  may  be  left 
to  maturer  Christians ;  but  the  work  of  the  church 
is  not  confined  to  instruction  and  counsel.  It  has 
an  aggressive  side,  where  strength  is  in  demand. 
The  work  of  pushing  the  gospel  into  new  fields, 
of  bringing  other  youth  under  its  influence,  of 
carrying  on  benevolent  and  missionary  entei-prises, 
is  work  which  young  men  and  women  can  do. 
You  show  that  you  can  do  it  when  you  undertake 
it.  An  organization,  formed  and  sustained  by 
young  ladies  in  this  city,  has  issued  in  a  reading- 
room  for  messenger-boys,  which  harbored  some- 
thing like  a  thousand  of  these  little  fellows  in  one 
year.  There  were  heathen  scattered  along  this  . 
avenue  and  elsewhere  in  the  city.  You  young 
men  were  urged  to  try  and  bring  them  under 
Christian  influence  ;  and  you  went  out,  and  sought 
the  Chinaman  in  his  laundry,  and  brought  him 
here,  to  teach  him  to  read,  and  to  speak  our 
tongue,  and  to  tell  him  of  Christ.  You  have  done 
it,  and  you  are  doing  it ;  and  I  doubt  if  even  yet 


STRENGTH  IN  YOUTH.  311 

you  wholly  appreciate  the  reach  of  your  work,  or 
the  fact  that  you  have  quietly  addressed  your- 
selves to  the  practical  solution  of  a  problem  which 
lias  occupied  the  attention  of  the  church  councils, 
without  waiting  for  them. 

There  is  a  small  hospital  in  this  city  where  little 
or  no  provision  was  made  for  religious  services. 
Last  winter  I  found  that  two  or  three  young  men 
—  one  of  them,  at  least,  a  member  of  this  church, 
and  I  am  not  sure  but  all  of  them  —  had  quietly 
taken  the  matter  in  hand,  and  were  regularly  hold- 
ing services  there ;  and  I  learned,  too,  of  the  ability 
and  efficiency  with  which  they  were  doing  that 
work,  and  how  eagerly  their  coming  was  looked 
for  each  week  by  the  inmates  of  those  wards. 

Yes,  you  are  strong ;  and  the  church  of  Christ 
lays  claim  to  your  strength.  You  came  into  the 
church  to  serve,  not  to  be  entertained.  When  you 
came  before  these  altars,  to  profess  your  allegiance 
to  your  Lord,  he  met  you  there,  and  asked  you  to 
put  your  strength  at  his  disposal ;  and,  if  you  do 
not  recognize  that  claim,  you  are  blind  to  your 
duty.  If  you  do  not  respond  to  it,  you  are  untrue 
to  the  Christ  whom  you  profess  to  serve.  Service 
is  not  to  be  an  incident  of  your  Christian  life :  it 
is  to  be  its  law,  as  it  was  the  law  of  Christ's  life. 
The  sooner  you  accept  the  truth,  that  as  Christians 
you  live  for  other  people,  the  sooner  you  will  be 
down  upon  the  firm,  hard  base-rock  of  the  gospel 
theory  of  life.  Some  one  once  said,  that  a  high- 
wayman demands  your  money  or  your  life ;  but 
Christ   demands    your   money  and    your   life.     I 


312  STRENGTH  IN   YOUTH. 

would  have  you  recall  the  words  which  were  read 
to  you  when  you  professed  your  faith  before  the 
church :  "  We  are  now  receiving  you  to  take  part 
with  us  in  maintaining  the  honor  of  the  church 
of  Christ,  and  in  the  defence  of  the  faith  once 
delivered  to  the  saints."  I  beg  that  3-ou  will  not 
think  those  words  meaningless.  We  conceive  that 
Christ  and  his  church  do  you  honor  by  inviting 
you,  not  as  children  to  be  pleased  and  amused, 
but  as  strong  to  help  us  in  our  fight  against  the 
Devil. 

But  the  question  is  not  only  of  Christian  work : 
it  is  also  of  Christian  character  lying  behind  the 
work,  and  inspiring  it.  There  can  be  no  good 
work  without  good  character.  Here  we  see,  that 
the  strength  of  which  John  speaks  is  the  strength 
which  comes  of  the  abiding  of  the  word  of  God 
in  the  heart,  and  of  victory  over  evil.  He  assumes 
that  youth  may  have  fixed  principles,  positive, 
religious  character,  and  victory  over  temptation : 
"  Ye  have  overcome  the  evil  one."  Youth's  record 
may  include  moral  victory.  And  here  we  are 
dealing  with  fact,  and  not  merely  with  theory. 
Youth,  as  we  very  well  know,  is  not  characterless. 
Strong  traits,  positive,  definite  tendencies,  emerge 
in  the  very  child.  A  moral  bias  m  one  or  the 
other  direction  reveals  itself  very  early,  and  often 
with  a  force  which  neither  discipline  nor  punish- 
ment seems  able  to  control.  Youth  is  susceptible 
to  bad  influences,  —  takes  them  in,  is  shaped  by 
them.  Is  it  not  likewise  susceptible  to  good  ones? 
Bad  character  in  youth  is  a  positive  and  acknowl- 


STRENGTH   IN  YOUTH.  313 

edged  fact.  Is  not  good  character  in  youth  equally 
a  fact?  Evil  in  youth  overcomes  good  influences. 
Is  it  impossible  that  good  in  youth  should  over- 
come evil  influences?  So  far  as  religious  prin- 
ciple is  a  matter  of  knowledge  and  training,  the 
great  truths  of  morals  and  religion  are  as  easily 
comprehended  by  the  child  as  the  principles  of 
arithmetic  and  grammar  which  he  learns  in  the 
school.  The  child  of  five  years  may,  and  often 
does,  learn  them,  and  apply  them  successfully  to 
the  conquest  of  his  little  temptations,  which  have 
as  much  moral  significance  as  the  mightier  and 
subtler  allurements  addressed  to  the  mature  man. 
As  a  fact,  we  see  that  young  people,  very  young 
people,  do  develop  positive  religious  character. 
With  all  the  sneers  at  early  piety,  early  piety  is  a 
blessed  fact.  And  why  not?  It  is  very  evident 
what  youth  can  do  in  the  way  of  victory  over  self 
and  temptation,  when  a  great  worldly  end  is  to  be 
gained.  How  many  young  enthusiasts  in  art  will 
deny  themselves  to  the  last  pinch,  in  order  to  go 
abroad,  and,  when  there,  will  resist  temptations  to 
self-indulgence,  and  live  in  a  garret  on  a  pittance, 
while  they  are  studying  music  or  painting !  How 
many  a  young  man,  in  order  to  acquire  a  college 
education,  will  stint  himself  in  the  very  necessi- 
ties of  life,  and  imperil  eyes  and  health,  and  bear 
the  sneers  of  fops  at  his  poor  clothes !  He  gets 
his  education,  he  overcomes ;  and  are  we  to  say 
that  the  young  Christian,  with  Christ's  inspiration 
in  his  heart,  and  Christian  influences  around  him, 
and  God  behind  him,  shall  not  take  up  the  great 


314  STRENGTH  IN   YOUTH. 

crosses  of  Christian  service,  and  practise  its  grand 
self-denials,  and  resist  and  overcome  the  world, 
the  flesh,  and  the  Devil?  Shall  not  his  youth 
already  have  scored  some  victory  over  evil,  and 
have  developed  some  determinate  character  and 
some  fixed  principles  against  which  the  floods  of 
temptation  shall  break  in  vain  ?  Are  we  to  as- 
sume that  youth  must  be  always  weak  and  van- 
quished on  its  moral  side  ?  Must  we  admit  that 
the  Devil  is  always  stronger  than  youth,  and 
weaker  than  ripe  manhood  only?  To  do  this  is 
to  give  the  lie  to  Christ's  words  about  Heaven's 
interest  in  the  little  ones.  It  is  to  say,  that,  while 
God  suffers  the  fight  with  temptation  to  come  with 
all  its  fury  upon  youth,  he  gives  the  victory  only 
to  ripe  age.  And  the  Bible  biographies,  at  least, 
do  not  tell  us  that  story.  A  large  proportion  of 
the  great  moral  slips  recorded  in  Scripture  have 
been  made  by  middle-aged  and  old  men  :  Noah, 
Job,  Lot,  Moses,  David,  Solomon,  Elijah,  Peter, 
are  startling  comments  on  the  truth  that  moral 
weakness  is  peculiar  to  no  age ;  while,  on  the 
other  hand,  young  Joseph,  young  David,  young 
Saul,  young  Samuel,  young  Ruth,  young  Josiah, 
young  Timothy,  —  all  testify  that  moral  strength 
and  victory  are  peculiar  to  no  age.  No :  John  is 
right.  He  does  not  assert  too  -much  when  he 
says,  "  Ye  have  overcome  the  evil  one."  If  youth 
can  be  Christian,  it  can  overcome.  If  it  is  truly 
Christian,  it  will  overcome ;  for  Christ  is  victory. 

And  once  more,  what  of  the  Word  abiding  in 
the  young  ?     "  The  word  of  God  abideth  in  you." 


STRENGTH   IN  YOUTH.  315 

111  the  order  of  the  text,  this  comes  before  the 
conquest  over  the  Evil  One,  and  rightly  ;  because 
the  Word  in  the  heart  stands  to  conquest  as  means 
to  end.  John's  thought  here  centres  in  the  word 
^  abideth."  His  emphasis  is  on  the  permanent 
power  of  the  Word  over  youth.  This  means 
more  than  the  pleasant  memory  of  old  Bible- 
stories  carried  by  youth  from  childhood.  It 
means  more  than  the  transient  interest  in  an 
eloquent  sermon.  It  means,  rather,  the  Word's 
mastery  of  the  young ;  the  Word  in  the  heart,  no 
less  than  in  the  memory ;  the  Word  as  the  law  of 
the  life  ;  the  Word  as  the  well-wielded  weapon 
of  moral  victory,  —  the  sword  of  the  spirit,  with 
which  Christ,  in  the  freshness  of  his  manhood, 
met  and  vanquished  Satan  in  the  wilderness. 

This  mastery  by  the  Word,  John  assumes  as  a 
fact  in  addressing  the  young  men :  ^  The  word  of 
God  abideth  in  you."  Paul  assumes  the  same 
thing  with  reference  to  Timothj'.  He  calls  to 
mind  the  unfeigned  faith  which  dwelt  in  his 
mother  and  in  his  grandmother,  and  adds,  "And 
I  am  persuaded  that  in  thee  also."  Young  people 
have,  many  of  them,  come  to  think  that  such 
mastery  by  the  Word  is  impracticable.  They 
think  they  must  master  the  Word  before  they  are 
mastered  by  it.  They  get  hints,  and  sometimes 
more,  of  grave  discussions  which  are  going  on 
over  the  Bible ;  and  they  come  to  think  of  the 
study  of  the  Bible  as  a  labyrinth  of  hard  questions 
which  must  be  left  to  theologians,  and  with  which 
they  have    nothing  to    do.     The    consequence    of 


316  STRENGTH   IN   YOUTH. 

this  is,  that  the  Word  gets  no  hold  on  them,  even 
as  they  get  no  hold  on  the  Word.  The  Bible,  it  is 
true,  cannot  be  mastered,  if  mastering  it  means 
understanding  all  that  it  contains  and  suggests. 
Divine  truth  must  always  have  a  side  of  mystery, 
from  the  very  fact  that  it  is  infinite.  If  you  and 
I  could  perfectly  master  the  Bible,  we  should  not 
need  it.  But  if  the  difficulties  of  the  Bible  are  a 
reason  for  neglecting  it,  they  are  equally  a  reason 
for  neglecting  God  and  Christ.  We  cannot  find 
out  God  by  searching,  and  yet  we  pray  to  this 
God  whom  we  do  not  wholly  know.  Enough  can 
be  known  to  call  out  our  adoring  love  and  our 
implicit  trust.  We  do  not  deny  God  because  we 
cannot  perfectly  understand  him.  Why  should 
we  refuse  his  Word?  In  science  and  art  and  phil- 
osophy, the  difficulty  of  a  subject  does  not  repel 
youth.  They  study,  and  that  intelligently,  the 
works  of  master  minds.  They  comprehend  diffi- 
cult subjects.  They  work  out  hard  problems  in 
engineering  and  astronomy.  And  what  I  com- 
plain of  in  a  certain  class  of  3''0ung  people  is,  that 
they  will  not  apply  to  the  Bible  the  same  amount 
of  attention  and  labor  which  the}"  bestow  on  other 
things.  When  they  meet  a  hard  question .  in 
physics  or  mathematics,  they  go  to  their  teachers, 
and  discuss  it :  but  they  will  read,  and  brood  over, 
the  words  of  infidel  philosophers  and  lecturers ; 
they  will  take  up  the  cheap,  superficial  objections 
against  the  Bible,  and  never  examine  for  them- 
selves how  much  they  are  worth,  or  consult  their 
religious    teachers,    who    could    enlighten    them. 


STRENGTH    IN   YOUTH.  317 

What  great  book  does  not  present  difficulties? 
There  has  been  as  hot  discussion  over  the  author- 
ship of  Junius'  letters,  as  vigorous  cross-firing  on 
the  Homeric  question  or  the  worthless  epistles  of 
Phalaris,  as  subtle  criticism  on  Shakspeare,  as  there 
has  been  over  the  Pentateuch  or  the  Gospels.  And 
yet  young  people  read  Homer  and  Shakspeare,  and 
enjoy  them.  Why  not  the  Bible  also  ?  There  is 
enough  in  the  Bible  which  the  child  can  under- 
stand, enough  which  the  youth  can  grasp,  —  fully 
enough  to  give  it  the  mastery  of  the  young  life. 
Whatever  mystery  may  attach  to  the  Bible,  the 
materials  for  character-building  lie  on  its  very 
surface.  If  there  are  parts  of  this  great  divine 
map  which  we  must  still  mark  "  unknown  land," 
the  track  to  goodness  and  to  heaven  is  sharply 
drawn.  The  wayfaring  man,  though  a  fool,  need 
not  err  therein.  It  is  enough  for  the  seaman  that 
his  compass  points  to  the  north,  even  though  it 
does  not  lead  him  into  strange  seas,  which  he  is 
curious  to  explore.  You  may  not  know  all  the 
rich  ore  which  lies  buried  in  this  mountain  of  God, 
but  its  duty  side  is  out  in  the  sunlight:  the  very 
children  can  climb  it  towards  heaven,  and  gather 
fruits  and  flowers  on  its  massive  sides.  The  young 
men  and  strong  men  can  move  upward  over  its 
rocks  into  the  pure  atmosphere  of  the  high  lands, 
and  see  from  its  lofty  outlooks  the  rich  pastures 
of  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  the  far  horizons  of 
divine  truth.  We  have  inspired  authority  that 
the  young  may  live  a  clean  and  godly  life  by  the 
use  of  God's  Word  :  "  Wherewithal  shall  a  young 


318  STRENGTH   IN   YOUTH. 

man  cleanse   his  way?     by  taking   heed   thereto 
according  to  thy  word." 

You  are,  then,  as  young  men  and  women,  bound 
by  your  Christian  profession  to  have  the  word  of 
God  abiding  in  you,  as  a  permanent  impulse  and 
formative  force  in  your  character  and  life.  It  is 
for  you  as  well  as  for  age.  You  can  appreciate  its 
calls  to  faith  in  God  and  Chiist,  to  purity  of  life,  to 
industry,  to  patience,  to  consistency,  just  as  well 
as  I  can.  The  Holy  Spirit  is  as  ready  to  make 
its  precepts  a  living  power  in  you  as  he  is  in  me. 
It  is  not  a  question  of  your  familiarity  with  theo- 
logical problems,  but  of  your  reception  of  plain, 
practical  truths.  It  is  indeed  knowledge  that  is 
bound  up  with  personal  character.  The  Bible  in- 
structs you,  that  it  may  form  you.  It  gives  you 
knowledge,  that  you  may  translate  it  into  good- 
ness and  spiritual  power.  If  you  can  grapple  with 
current  questions  of  science  and  politics,  you  can 
take  in  the  truth  that  there  is  a  God,  your  Cre- 
ator, who  claims  to  be  remembered  in  the  days  of 
your  youth ;  that  there  is  a  Christ,  your  Saviour, 
and  that  you  can  come  to  him  as  he  invited  even 
the  children  to  do ;  that  Christ  gives  the  law  to 
life ;  that  duty  is  better  than  sin ;  that  Christ 
points  towards  unselfish  service.  And  you  can 
appreciate  the  point  of  warnings",  the  comfort  of 
promises,  the  inspiration  of  noble  examples,  the 
stir  of  calls  to  duty.  You  know,  in  other  spheres, 
what  it  is  to  work  on  a  principle  and  for  a  pur- 
pose ;  and  it  is  no  harder  to  know  this  when  the 
principle  is  laid  down  by  Christ,  and  when  the 


STRENGTH  IN   YOUTH.  319 

purpose  is  holiness  and  heaven.  The  word  of  God 
abide th  in  you.  O  young  Christians!  can  you  say 
this  morning  that  this  is  true  of  you?  Has  the 
Word  which  godly  parents  and  teachers  instilled 
into  your  childhood  been  welling  up  in  your  lives 
ever  since  with  a  fuller  flood?  Has  that  Word, 
which  you  promised  to  study  and  cherisli  when 
you  confessed  Christ  before  the  church,  been  a 
steadily  working  and  growing  power  in  your  life  ? 
Have  you  kept  this  heavenly  guest  with  you  by 
constant  questioning  and  communing?  Has  the 
power  of  the  Word  over  jou  become  stronger, 
more  stead}^  more  direct,  since  you  began  to  fol- 
low Christ? 

This,  which  the  apostle  assumes  of  youth,  is, 
therefore,  to  be  your  ideal.  You  ought  to  be,  as 
young  Christians,  strong  aiid  victorious,  under  the 
mastery  of  God's  Word ;  and  that,  not  only  for 
your  own  sakes,  but  for  the  sake  of  the  Church 
and  of  the  world.  Vagueness,  Avavering  in  the 
character  of  our  Christian  youth,  menace  great 
interests  of  the  future.  You  are  back  one  or  two 
ranks:  you  do  not  see  what  is  coming,  as  we 
do  who  are  at  the  front.  We  would  not  have 
you  brought  suddenly  to  face  dangers  for  which 
you  are  unprepared,  and  against  which  the  great 
defence  will  lie  in  your  pure  and  Christ-like  char- 
acter, your  thorough  mastery  by  the  power  of  the 
Word.  A  few  years  more,  and  our  heads  will  no 
longer  be  between  you  and  the  enemy's  advance. 
We  shall  be  down,  and  carried  off  the  field ;  and 
the  brunt  of  the  battle  will  be  on  you.     A  fight  is 


320  STRENGTH   IN   YOUTH. 

coming  on  from  many  points.  The  thonghtfnl, 
the  studious,  the  educated  among  you,  will  have 
to  face  religious  and  social  problems  which  are 
daily  rolling  up  complications.  If  the  next  age  is 
to  be  a  victorious  age  for  the  gospel,  its  professors 
must  go  into  the  fight  with  settled  convictions, 
with  established  moral  principles,  with  a  steady  en- 
thusiasm for  Christ,  with  a  faith  that  can  remove 
mountains.  Whatever  your  education,  whatever 
your  culture,  you  can  all  alike  compass  the  apos- 
tle's ideal  of  godly  character  ;  and  character,  quite 
as  much  as  knowledge,  is  going  to  decide  this  con- 
flict. You  can  have  the  word  of  God  abiding 
in  you,  and  be  thoroughly  under  its  power,  and 
shaped  by  its  precepts.  You  can  overcome  the 
evil  one.  You  can  be  strong,  —  strong  in  God 
and  in  the  power  of  his  might.  May  he  give  you 
the  victory ! 


XYIIL 

GOD     AND     THE    TIMES     OF     IGNO- 
KANCE. 


XVIII. 

GOD  AND  THE  TIMP:S  OF  IGNORANCE. 

"  The  times  of  ignorance  therefore  God  overlooked  ;  but  now 
he  commandeth  men  that  they  should  all  everywhere  repent." 
—  Acts  xvii.  30. 

THERE  are  few  scenes  in  Scripture  or  else- 
where of  more  profound  interest  and  mean- 
ing tlian  that  of  Paul  on  Mars'  Hill.  In  the 
Athenian  people  and  civilization,  the  heathen  in- 
tellect and  the  heathen  faith  attain  their  climax. 
Athens  represents  the  very  best  and  most  that 
either  of  these  could  effect.  The  outcome  was 
artistic  beauty,  false  philosophy,  and  idolatry. 
These  are  now  confronted  with  a  new  faith  in  the 
person  of  Paul.  Standing  in  the  public  tribunal, 
surrounded  by  the  representatives  of  the  great 
philosophic  schools,  and  with  the  beautiful  objects 
of  Pagan  devotion  on  every  side,  he  puts  into  one 
broad  statement  the  representative  thought  of 
Pagan  idolatry  :  "  The  godhead  is  like  to  gold, 
silver,  and  stone,  graven  by  man's  device."  He 
briefly  and  sharply  characterizes  the  error  as  a 
mark  of  ignorance.  The  stamp  upon  all  the  splen- 
did artistic  paraphernalia  of  worship  is  that  of 
ignorance,  —  the  ignorance  of  the  past  perpetuated 


324    GOD  AND  THE  TIMES  OF  IGNORANCE. 

in  the  present.  It  was  a  severe  thing  to  say  to 
a  people  who  cherished  the  past  so  fondly,  who 
deified  its  great  men,  that  all  the  old  worship  of 
their  fathers,  all  the  dear  old  stories  of  gods  and 
heroes  which  it  was  still  their  delight  to  embody 
in  gold  and  ivory  and  gems  and  marble,  were  but 
marks  of  ignorance,  —  especially  severe  to  a  people 
who  boasted  of  their  culture ;  and  perhaps  not  the 
least  irritating  thing  was  the  attitude  in  which 
Paul  represented  his  own  God  —  that  God  so  new 
and  strange  to  his  hearers  —  towards  their  religious 
history  and  worship.  He  had  tolerated  it,  over- 
looked it,  as  a  matter  wliich  in  no  way  concerned 
his  own  honor.  Truly,  it  was  not  strange  that 
Epicurian  and  Stoic  sneered,  and  asked,  "What 
will  this  babbler  say  ?  " 

This  is  the  point  for  our  study  to-day.  Paul's 
words  bear  one,  and  but  one,  simple  construction : 
that  God  tolerated  and  permitted,  or,  to  use  his  own 
word,  "  overlooked,"  the  follies  of  an  ignorant  and 
idolatrous  age  :  "  The  times  of  ignorance  therefore 
God  overlooked." 

This  raises,  as  you  at  once  perceive,  the  very 
difficult  question  concerning  certain  things  which 
God  has  permitted  to  run  their  course  in  past 
ages,  —  things  which  will  not  for  an  instant  bear 
the  test  of  even  the  lowest  Christian  morality.  It 
would  be  the  height  of  folly  to  underrate  or  ignore 
this  difficulty.  I  certainly  am  not  presumptuous 
enough  to  think  that  I  can  wholly  resolve  it.  But 
we  can  face  facts,  we  can  grasp  general  principles 
of  God's  administration  as  revealed  in  the  facts, 


GOD  AND  THE   TIMES  OF  IGNORANCE.  325 

and  we  can  walk  together  as  far  as  the  Bible  and 
history  give  us  solid  footing.  And  thus  I  think  we 
shall  obtain  some  light  at  least,  and  get  upon  lines 
which,  though  they  may  not  carry  us  as  far  as 
we  might  desire,  certainly  bear  in  the  right  direc- 
tion. We  shall  never  be  the  worse  Christians  or 
the  worse  theologians  for  acknowledging  real  diffi- 
culties when  they  arise.  It  would  be  the  strangest 
of  things  if  the  economy  of  an  infinite  God  did 
not  present  some  real  and  some  insoluble  difficul- 
ties to  the  finite  understanding. 

As  we  study  the  Bible  history,  we  see  two  move- 
ments or  currents  in  progress  simultaneously. 
One  of  these  we  may  call  the  natural  historic 
movement ;  that  is  to  say,  the  progress  of  a  his- 
tory, like  that  of  Israel,  for  example,  according  to 
the  natural  laws,  the  ordinary  physical  influences 
under  which  nations  mature,  such  as  climate,  soil, 
migration,  conquest.  There  are  those  who  refuse 
to  see,  in  the  history  related  in  the  Bible,  any 
thing  more  than  this.  When,  for  instance,  Abra- 
ham goes  out  from  his  country,  it  is  merely  the 
ordinary  migration  of  a  Semitic  tribe  beyond  the 
Euphrates.  The  Hebrews  go  down  into  Egypt 
because  of  its  fertility,  and  under  the  pressure  of 
famine.  The  same  results  ensue  as  always  where 
a  stronger  and  a  weaker  race  come  into  contact. 
The  law  of  the  survival  of  the  fittest  holds.  The 
stronger  race  subdues  and  enslaves  and  oppresses 
the  weaker.  The  natural  revolt  against  oppression 
follows.  There  is  another  migration,  and  the  op- 
pressed  people   find  the  way  at   last  to  Canaan. 


326    GOD  AND  THE  TIMES  OF  IGNORANCE. 

Then  comes,  naturally,  a  long  period  of  confusion. 
Two  hostile  races  are  side  by  side,  like  the  Normans 
and  the  Saxons  in  England.  The  civil  polity  of 
Israel  is  struggling  to  shape  itself  to  the  new  condi- 
tions, and  this  struggle  throws  to  the  surface  the 
strange  characters  and  incidents  of  the  Book  of 
Judges.  Gradually  the  need  of  an  absolute  head 
develops  :  the  popular  voice  demands  a  king,  and 
the  monarchy  is  instituted.  This,  I  repeat,  is  the 
only  aspect  of  the  Bible  story  which  some  will 
allow ;  but  another,  and  let  us  hope  a  larger,  class 
detect  another  influence  and  another  movement 
in  this  history  ;  and  to  them  this  is  the  controlling 
movement,  the  influence  which  gives  character  and 
direction  to  the  other.  That  is  the  providential 
movement,  the  outworking  of  a  divine  purpose. 
In  other  words,  the  Bible  is,  to  such  readers,  a 
record,  not  only  of  the  great  national  changes  of 
nations  and  men,  but  of  these  changes  as  shaped 
and  guided  by  a  superintending  Providence  toward 
the  fulfilment  of  a  divine  purpose.  Thus,  where 
the  philosopher  sees  only  the  migration  of  a  tribe 
under  some  physical  pressure,  the  religious  histo- 
rian hears  the  Lord  say  unto  Abraham,  "  Get  thee 
out  from  thy  kindred  and  from  thy  father's  house." 
Where  the  one  sees  Abraham  blindly  conforming 
to  the  fierce  Syrian  ritual  whicli  bade  him  slay 
Isaac,  the  other  hears  God  say,  "  Take  now  thy  son, 
thine  only  son,  and  offer  him  on  the  mountain." 
Where  the  one  sees  only  the  natural  uprising  and 
emigration  of  a  slave  people,  the  other  sees  God 
beginning  to  mould  a  nation  to  preserve  and  trans- 
mit his  truth. 


GOD   AND   THE  TIMES  OF  IGNORANCE.  327 

And  to  us,  at  least,  the  Bible  ceases  to  have  any 
special  moment  or  meaning  if  tliis  element  is  left 
out  of  it.  If  the  Bible  is  not  the  record  of  God's 
saving  and  educating  purpose  in  the  world,  if  God 
is  not  behind  and  through  its  historic  movement, 
then  the  Bible  is  unv^^orthy  of  our  special  rever- 
ence. 

Now,  our  difficulty  arises  out  of  the  fact  that 
these  two  movements,  the  natural  and  the  provi- 
dential, are  mysteriously  intertwined ;  that  God's 
design  works  itself  out  through  much  which,  to  an 
educated  Christian  sense,  is  cruel,  selfish,  and  even 
brutal,  and  by  means  of  men  who  fall  below  even 
the  lower  types  of  the  social  morality  of  our  day. 
Certainly,  if  we  were  called  on  to  select  types  of 
devout  servants  of  God,  we  should  not  choose 
Samson  nor  Barak  nor  even  Gideon.  They  are 
passionate,  revengeful,  superstitious,  sometimes 
loose  in  morals ;  and  yet  they  are  placed  by  a 
New-Testament  apostle  among  the  heroes  of  faith. 
Take,  for  instance,  the  story  of  Jael.  She  is  repre- 
sented as  acting  under  a  divine  impulse.  She  is 
praised  by  the  prophetess  Deborah  as  the  Lord's 
deliverer  of  Israel ;  but,  after  all,  say  what  you 
will,  it  was  a  brutal  thing  to  drive  a  tent-pin 
through  the  temple  of  a  sleeping  man.  It  was  a 
treacherous  thing  to  allure  even  an  enemy  with 
hospitable  invitation  and  with  promise  of  safety. 
Or  Samson,  announced  as  devoted  to  God  from 
his  birth,  and  of  whom  we  keep  reading  at  inter- 
vals, "  The  spirit  of  the  Lord  came  upon  him,"  — 
can  you  commend  him  to  your  children  for  imita^ 


328  GOD   AND   THE   TIMES  OF  IGNORANCE. 

tion?  Or,  there  is  that  horrible  business  of  the 
Canaanites,  wliich,  in  some  aspects  at  least,  must, 
I  fear,  continue  to  be  a  puzzle,  —  the  divine  man- 
date to  exterminate  man,  woman,  and  child.  These 
are  terrible  facts,  and  facts  which  lie  in  our  way  as 
inevitably  as  the  crossing  of  the  Red  Sea  or  the 
birth  of  our  Saviour. 

Take  the  matter  of  genealogy.  Take  that  gene- 
alogical line  which  we  should  naturally  suppose 
would  have  been  kept  absolutely  pure  along  its 
whole  length,  —  the  line  of  our  Lord's  human 
descent.  And  yet  it  is  not  so.  He  was  of  the 
tribe  of  Judah,  but  you  find  some  strange  episodes 
in  the  history  of  Judah.  He  was  of  the  stock  of 
David;  but  the  Book  of  Ruth  and  the  Book  of 
Chronicles  will  tell  you  that  Salmon  was  the 
father  of  Boaz,  and  Matthew  will  tell  you  that 
the  mother  of  Boaz  was  Rahab. 

Such  illustrations  —  and  they  are  but  specimens 
of  a  great  number — show  us  that,  in  the  Bible,  the 
natural  and  the  providential  currents  do  not  run 
side  by  side  like  the  Rhone  and  the  Arve,  where 
they  issue  from  Lake  Geneva,  each  preserving  its 
own  distinct  color,  but,  on  the  contrary,  mingle  ; 
so  that,  to  human  eyes,  God's  work  in  history 
seems  discolored  by  human  passion  and  infirmity. 

Now,  as  I  have  already  said,  these  facts  involve 
difficulties ;  but  we  can  nevertheless  discover,  run- 
ning through  the  mass  of  facts,  some  straight 
tracks  leading  us  to  three  general  principles,  which 
we  will  do  well  to  have  clearly  in  mind  always 
when  we  read  our  Bibles. 


GOD   AND   THE  TIMES  OF   IGNORANCE.  329 

The  first  principle  is  one  with  which  you  are 
already  familiar ;  namely,  that  there  is  a  progress 
in  the  divine  revelation  in  the  Bible,  —  a  progress 
from  limited  to  fuller  revelation,  from  smaller  to 
larger  knowledge,  from  more  contracted  to  ex- 
panded views  of  God  and  of  truth.  The  Bible 
is  a  record  of  a  revelation  given,  as  we  are  told 
in  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews,  "  at  sundry  times 
and  in  divers  manners."  Take,  for  example,  the 
truth  of  the  incarnation,  the  very  heart  of  Scrip- 
ture. There  is  a  fulness  of  time  which  must 
come  before  the  Redeemer  can  be  revealed ;  until 
then  there  are  foreshadowings,  types,  symbols, 
prophecies.  Now,  after  Christ  has  come,  the  same 
law  holds.  He  plainly  tells  the  disciples  that 
larger  and  richer  developments  are  to  come  after 
him ;  "  I  have  many  things  to  say  unto  you,  but 
ye  cannot  bear  them  now.  Ye  shall  see  greater 
things.  When  the  Spmt  is  come,  he  shall  guide 
you  unto  all  truth."  God's  earlier  revelation  is 
confined  to  an  individual,  a  family,  a  tribe.  He 
appears  as  a  God  of  the  Jews,  a  national  God. 
The  idea  of  the  Father  of  all  mankind  comes  later. 
Or,  take  the  doctrine  of  immortality.  How  imper- 
fect it«  revelation  in  the  earlier  Scriptures !  How 
dark  and  chaotic  the  picture  of  the  future  life 
drawn  by  Job !  It  has  no  sanction  in  Jewish  law, 
no  symbol  in  Jewish  worship :  it  is  never  appealed 
to  as  a  motive  to  exertion,  nor  upheld  as  a  comfort 
m  trouble.  What  a  step  to  the  revelation  of  life 
and  immortality  in  the  gospel !  Or,  take  the  mat- 
ter of  spirituality  in  life  and  worship.     Is  there 


330    GOD  AND  THE  TIMES  OF  IGNORANCE. 

not  a  distinct  progress  from  a  religion  which  re- 
quired the  complicated  apparatus  of  altars,  ark, 
candlesticks,  curtains,  incense,  shew-bread,  sacri- 
fices, to  that  which  intelligently  accepts  the  truth 
that  God  is  a  spirit  ?  So,  too,  there  is  a  progress 
from  the  morality  which  must  be  held  in  leading- 
strings,  kept  to  duty  by  specific  rules  and  minute 
precepts,  to  the  freedom  with  which  Christ  makes 
his  disciples  free,  throwing  them  upon  the  guid- 
ance of  the  conscience  enlightened  by  his  Spirit. 
All  these  illustrations,  with  a  multitude  more,  show 
us  clearly  that  the  revelation  of  God  and  the 
unfolding  of  character  in  Scripture  are  as  the 
progress  from  starlight  to  the  brightness  of  noon. 

But  this  principle  necessitates  a  second,  —  the 
principle  of  accommodation.  We  must  never  for- 
get that  we,  as  Christians,  read  the  Bible  from  a 
New-Testament  stand-point;  and  that,  conse- 
quently, if  we  read  the  Old  Testament  expecting 
to  find  New-Testament  standards  and  principles 
in  operation  there,  we  shall  be  constantly  disap- 
pointed and  puzzled.  As  a  recent  writer  has  most 
aptly  said,  "  We  must  leave  our  own  position  amid 
the  worked-out  results  of  revelation ;  and  we  should 
divest  ourselves  of  our  Christian  associations,  which 
are  the  results  of  the  whole  educational  work  of 
God  in  history."  When  you  read  the  Book  of 
Judges,  for  instance,  you  cannot  help  saying, 
"  These  characters  are  not  for  my  imitation.  These 
deeds  are  not  such  as  I  ought  to  do.  These  words 
would  not  become  my  lips.  How  is  it  that  men 
who  say  and  do  such  things  are  marked  as  the  ser- 


GOD  AND  THE  TIMES  OF  IGNORANCE.  331 

vants  of  God,  and  endowed  with  his  Spirit  ?  Or, 
here  are  certain  things  permitted,  even  commanded, 
by  God.  They  seem  inconsistent  with  what  the 
gospel  teaches  me  to  believe  of  his  character: 
what  am  I  to  think  ?  " 

You  cannot  help  thinking  that  there  is  a  terrible 
inconsistency  if  you  do  not  recognize  the  fact  of 
progress  in  revelation,  and  the  consequent  fact  of 
the  accommodation  of  revelation  to  the  actual  con- 
dition of  mankind.  You  cannot  make  the  full  tide 
of  the  Hudson  at  the  Tappan  Zee  run  in  the  chan- 
nel of  the  little  brook  among  the  Adirondacks, 
though  the  brook  may  grow  into  the  river.  No 
more  can  you  expect  the  full  tide  of  Christian  rev- 
elation to  fit  the  moral  conditions  of  Israel  when 
it  stood  before  Sinai.  And  therefore,  as  a  fact,  we 
find  that  God  does  adapt  his  mode  and  measure  of 
revelation  to  men  as  he  finds  them,  instead  of 
miraculously  fitting  the  men  to  his  highest  revela- 
tion. For  example,  take  the  Israelites  at  the  Red 
Sea,  and  let  Christ  have  come  in  the  flesh,  and 
have  uttered  the  discourse  in  the  fifteenth  and  six- 
teenth of  John,  or  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  — 
would  it  not  have  been  as  an  idle  word  in  their 
ears?  Could  they  have  received  those  sublime 
truths  ?  Therefore,  he  gave  them  symbols  and 
rites,  —  the  ark  and  the  altar,  the  pillar  of  cloud 
and  of  fire.  What  was  the  revelation  of  God  in 
human  form  but  an  accommodation  ?  Man  would 
not  understand  God  by  hearing  that  God  was  a 
spirit ;  and  so  the  Infinite  took  upon  himself  the 
form  of  a  servant.     Why  did  he  not  make  man  by 


332    GOD  AND  THE  TIMES  OF  IGNORANCE. 

a  miracle  fit  for  his  latest  revelation  ?  All  that 
can  be  said  is,  he  did  not  do  it.  For  reasons  of 
his  own,  he  adapted  his  revelation  to  men  as  they 
were.  And  we  ourselves  stand  upon  the  same 
basis.  There  is  more  in  revelation  than  we  have 
yet  seen ;  there  is  a  glory  to  be  revealed ;  we 
might  as  properly  ask  why  God  does  not  fit  us  at 
once  to  receive  the  full  weight  of  glory  as  it  comes 
down  upon  a  heavenly  nature.  We  know  simply 
that  that  is  not  his  way ;  that  we  could  not  bear 
it  if  it  were  revealed. 

But  this  principle  goes  farther.  It  is  impossi- 
ble to  deny  that  God  gives  temporary  sanction  to 
certain  things  which  will  not  stand  the  test  of 
Christian  morality.  There  is  polygamy,  for  in- 
stance. The  New  Testament  refuses  to  recognize 
it.  The  Christian  sentiment  of  the  age  abhors  it. 
The  civil  law  of  the  Christian  community  pun- 
ishes it.  And  yet  it  is  among  the  accepted  facts 
of  the  primitive  times,  and  God  blesses  the  off- 
spring of  polygamous  marriages,  as  in  the  case  of 
Joseph.  Abraham  was  no  less  the  friend  of  God 
and  the  father  of  the  faithful  because  he  had 
Hagar  as  well  as  Sarah  to  wife,  and  Jacob,  was 
called  a  prince  with  God,  though  Rachel  and  Leah 
shared  his  conjugal  affection.  Slavery  was  incor- 
porated into  the  Mosaic  law.  God  might  have 
brought  the  ages  of  Deborah  and  of  Samson  up 
to  the  level  of  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  but  he 
did  not.  He  might  have  worked  out  his  purpose  by 
new  methods  specially  devised ;  but  he  took  men's 
crudity  and  cruelty  and  savage  passion,  —  the  prac- 


GOD   AND  THE  TIMES  OF  IGNORANCE.  333 

tice  of  war  and  all  its  attendant  miseries,  —  took 
them  as  they  were,  and  let  these  things  work  them- 
selves out  according  to  their  natural  law,  accord- 
ing to  the  spirit  and  the  methods  of  their  age. 

Christ  recognized  this  fact  clearly  enough. 
When  the  Pharisees  appealed  against  him  to 
Moses  on  the  question  of  divorce,  he  said,  "  Moses, 
because  of  the  hardness  of  your  hearts,  suffered 
you  to  put  away  your  wives :  but  from  the  begin- 
ning it  was  not  so."  That  is  to  say,  the  standard 
of  true  marriage  was  fixed  in  the  beginning  in 
Eden :  "  Therefore  shall  a  man  cleave  unto  his 
wife,  and  they  shall  be  one  flesh."  What  was 
Christ's  baptism  by  John  but  a  temporary  adapta- 
tion to  crude  religious  conceptions?  What  else 
did  he  mean  by  "  suffer  it  now  "  ?  Or  do  not  his 
words  in  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  point  back  to 
a  similar  accommodation?  "■Ye  have  heard  that 
it  hath  been  said  by  them  of  old  time "  —  and 
those  sayings  were  in  the  law  too ;  they  were  not 
mere  popular  proverbs :  "  but  I  say  unto  you " 
something  different  and  better.  Surely  the  pure 
utterances  of  God  do  not  repeal  each  other. 

We  have,  thus  far,  two  principles.  First,  that 
there  is  a  progre^is  in  divine  revelation ;  second, 
that  there  is  an  accommodation  in  divine  revela- 
tion. To  these  we  must  now  add  a  third,  without 
which  the  whole  question  would  be  left  in  worse 
confusion  than  before. 

The  principle  is  this :  that  through  this  par- 
tial, grotving,  and  aceoinmodated  revelation,  God  is 
continually  working  toivard  his  own  perfect  ideal. 


334    GOD  AND  THE  TIMES  OF  IGNORANCE. 

You  can  easily  see,  that  if  you  once  admit  this 
fact  of  a  progressive  revelation,  —  and  you  cannot 
denj''  it,  —  the  character  of  the  revelation  must  be 
judged  by  its  general  tendency  and  by  its  outcome. 
Suppose,  for  example,  I  should  give  a  peach-stone 
to  a  man  who  had  never  seen  a  peach,  and  tell 
him,  that,  if  he  would  plant  it,  it  would  yield  a 
delicious  fruit ;  and  if,  after  a  few  weeks,  he  should 
dig  it  up,  and,  finding  the  seed  just  sprouting, 
should  come  jeering,  and  saying,  "  Do  you  call  that 
a  delicious  thing?"  you  all  see  what  the  proper 
answer  would  be.  Back  of  the  fruit  is  a  process,  a 
long  process.  Why  God  did  not  make  the  peach 
to  spring  in  an  instant  fully  ripe  from  the  ground, 
is  not  the  question.  It  is  enough  that  he  did  not, 
but  subjected  it  to  the  law  of  groAvth ;  and  you 
cannot  pronounce  upon  the  meaning  or  the  quality 
of  that  process  until  the  tree  is  grown,  and  the 
fruit  hangs  ripe  and  blushing  on  the  bough.  Then 
all  becomes  plain.  So,  back  of  the  perfect  law 
and  the  perfect  manhood  of  the  gospel  lies  this 
slow,  moral  growth  of  humanity.  You  cannot  un- 
derstand God's  meaning  in  it  until  you  see  its  con- 
summate result.  When  you  once  perceive  that 
the  Bible  means  Christ,  that  the  history  recorded, 
in  the  Bible  moves  steadily  toward  Christ,  then 
you  may  begin  to  understand  that  the  imperfec- 
tion of  the  early  time  means  perfection  in  the 
later  time ;  that  God's  toleration  and  accommoda- 
tion are  simply  parts  of  the  process  which  is  to 
issue  in  the  cheerful  subjection  of  a  man  in  Christ 
to  the  j)erfect  law  of  the  gospel.     Hence,  "The 


GOD   AND  THE   TIMES   OF  IGNORANCE.  335 

morality  of  a  progressive  dispensatio]i,"  as  Canon 
Mozley  remarks,  "  is  not  the  morality  with  which 
it  starts,  but  that  with  which  it  concludes."  When 
you  want  to  form  a  judgment  of  some  great  his- 
toric man,  do  you  study  carefully  the  first  ten 
years  of  his  life,  marked  by  his  crudeness,  passion, 
and  waywardness,  and  stoj)  there,  and  decide  that 
the  man  was  a  hasty,  weak,  passionate  man  ?  Do 
you  not  rather  read  his  life  backward  in  the  light 
of  his  glorious  prime?  Do  you  call  his  father 
weak,  inconsistent,  corrupt,  because  he  bore  with 
the  boy's  childish  folly,  and  accommodated  his 
own  higher  wisdom  to  the  lad's  ignorance  and 
crudity?  As,  therefore,  we  study  God's  economy 
in  the  Bible  history,  we  find  that  there  is  a  con- 
tinuous upward  movement  in  it.  Toleration  is 
exercised,  not  as  a  compromise  with  sin,  but  with 
a  view  to  making  toleration  unnecessary.  Witli 
all  its  accommodations,  God's  economy  is  never 
content  to  leave  the  man  or  the  people  in  the 
condition  to  which  it  accommodates  itself.  It  ac- 
commodates to  raise.  Its  testimony  against  sin  is 
clear,  unvarying,  trumpet-toned  throughout.  Its 
punishment  of  sin  is  terrible.  Side  b}'  side  with 
the  record  of  the  call  and  approval  of  such  agents 
as  Samson  and  Deborah,  goes  a  faithful  record  of 
divine  retributions.  But,  through  all,  God's  pur- 
pose is  clearly  defined  to  lead  men  up  to  a  higher 
level  of  morals  and  faith.  The  polygamic  ideal 
of  marriage  moves  upward  toward  the  Christian 
ideal  as  embodied  in  Paul's  beautiful  words  to 
the  Ephesians.     Christianity  finds  slavery  spread 


336  GOD   AND   THE   TIMES   OF   IGNORANCE. 

over  the  Roman  world  ;  and  it  does  not  begin  a 
crusade  against  slavery,  which  would  have  rent 
society  asunder  and  defeated  its  own  ends,  but 
takes  Roman  society  as  it  finds  it,  and  infuses  tlie 
spirit  of  the  gospel  into  the  relation  of  master 
and  slave :  and  yet  Paul  sends  Onesunus  back  to 
Philemon.  Gradually  the  great  Christian  truths 
of  the  dignity  of  tlie  human  soul,  of  the  personal 
right  and  responsibility  of  the  individual,  of  the 
law  and  spirit  of  love,  are  gathering  force  and 
leavening  society.  It  was  a  little  gain  when  it 
gained  strength  enough  to  make  a  law  forbidding 
a  slave  to  be  crucified.  It  was  a  further  gain 
when  Constantine  forbade  the  separation  of  the 
families  of  slaves.  It  was  a  further  gain  when 
Justinian  abolished  all  the  old  restrictions  of  the 
Pagan  laws  uj)on  manumission,  and  granted  to 
the  freed  slave  nearly  all  the  privileges  of  the 
citizen.  In  the  old  city  of  Ravenna,  lying  down 
amid  the  marshes  of  the  Adriatic,  stands  a  noble 
church,  built  in  the  sixth  century ;  and  as  one 
stands  amid  its  graceful  arcades,  its  richly  carved 
capitals,  its  costly  slabs  of  Greek  marble,  its  bla- 
zing mosaics,  his  mind  runs  down  a  long  perspec- 
tive of  history,  as  he  remembers  that  this  churck 
was  dedicated  by  a  Roman  emperor  to  the  mem- 
ory of  a  slave  who  was  buried  alive  for  exhorting 
a  brother  martyr  to  fidelity  under  his  tortures. 
That  was  a  gain  upon  Nero's  time.  And  so  the 
leavening  process  went  on,  until,  in  the  fourteenth 
century,  shivery  had  ceased  in  Europe;  and  still 
on,   until,  in   its  last  stronghold,  the  institution 


GOU  AND  THE  TIMES  OF  IGNORANCE.    337 

was  honeycombed,  and  fell  to  pieces,  and  not  even 
the  appeal  to   the  law  of  Moses  could   save  it. 
That  was  just  what  God  had  meant  all  the  while. 
Elijah  was  a  prophet  of  fire,  liarsh  and  stern.    None 
the  less  God  used  and  honored  him  in  his  own 
generation,  —  yea,  so  much  as  to  say,  ''  There  shall 
not  be  dew  nor  rain  these  years,  but  according  to 
thy  word."     And  yet  Christ  rebuked  the  disciples 
who  wanted  to  do  the  very  same  thing  that  Elijah 
aid,  — to  call  down  fire  from  heaven  on  those  who 
had  insulted  him .    God  had  sent  the  fire  at  Elijah's 
call.    Christ  told  the  disciples  they  were  of  another 
dispensation,  where  the  spirit  and  deeds  of  Elijah 
were  out  of  place.     "  Ye  know  not  what  spirit  ye 
are  of.     Ye  are  ignorant."     The  time  of  Elijah's 
ignorance,  God  had  overlooked ;  the  Christian  dis- 
ciples' ignorance,  Christ  rebuked  and  corrected; 
and  yet  the  God  of  Elijah,  and  the  Christ  who 
reproved  James  and  John,  are  one  and  the  same. 
There  is  no  inconsistency  between  the  sending  of 
fire   and  the  forbidding   of  fire.     Elijah   is    first 
understood,  and  his  place  fixed  by  the  spirit  and 
the  deeds  of  Christ.     There  is  a  very  significant 
passage  at  the  close  of  the  eleventh  of  Hebrews, 
in  which  these  Old-Testament  saints  are  ranked 
among   the    heroes   of   faith,  — a   passage   which 
groups  them  all  under  the  general  law  we  liave 
been    discussing:    "God    having    provided   some 
better  thing  for  us,  that  they,  apart  from  us,  should 
not  be  made  perfect."     What  does  this  teach  but 
that  God's  purpose  in  the  education  of  men  does 
not  fulfil  itself  in  any  man  or  generation  of  men, 


338    GOD  AND  THE  TIMES  OF  IGNORANCE. 

but  in  the  whole  history  of  mankind.  According 
to  this,  we  are  not  to  view  Abraham  and  Moses 
and  Gideon  and  Samson  merely  with  reference  to 
their  own  time,  but  as  parts,  along  with  ourselves, 
of  God's  great  movement  in  bringing  the  race  to 
the  measure  of  Christ's  manhood. 

But  we  must  not  leave  this  subject  without  allud- 
ing to  the  practical  conclusion  which  Paul  draws 
from  God's  forbearance  in  past  ages :  "  The  times 
of  ignorance  therefore  God  overlooked ;  hut  noic 
He  commandeth  men  that  they  should  all  every- 
where repent."  In  other  words,  God's  tolerance 
in  the  past  is  a  warning  against  presuming  on  his 
forbearance  in  the  present.  So  far  from  being  an 
encouragement  to  sin,  it  is  a  most  pregnant  warn- 
ing against  sin,  a  most  imperative  call  to  repent- 
ance. God  bore  with  the  crudeness  and  ignorance 
of  the  men  of  olden  time,  in  order  that  men  of  a 
later  and  more  enlightened  day  should  have  no 
excuse  for  claiming  his  forbearance.  A  very  dif- 
ferent conclusion  tliis  from  that  which  certain  men 
at  the  present  day  draw  from  this  Old-Testament 
record,  making  it  a  ground  of  attack  upon  God's 
character,  and  a  reason  for  rejecting  his  later  reve- 
lation in  Christ.  As  we  in  happier  times  read  of, 
those  old  days  of  brutal  struggle,  cruelt}^,  character 
tainted  with  human  passion,  our  proper  sentiment 
is  that  of  wonder  at  the  patience  of  God  through 
all  these  ages,  of  admiration  at  the  wisdom  of  his 
forbearance,  of  congratulation  that  he  has  pro- 
vided some  better  thing  for  us.  Let  me  repeat, 
that,  tlirough  all  these  ages  of  patient  forbear- 


GOD   AND  THE  TIMES   OF  IGNORANCE.  339 

aiice,  God's  testimony  is  uniform,  unmistakable, 
terrible  against  sin :  and  the  true  course  of  every 
man  who  studies  this  record  is,  to  turn  his  face 
toward  the  cross ;  to  seek  in  Christ's  sacrifice  de- 
liverance from  the  power  of  the  evil  passions  which 
wrote  their  mark  so  deeply  on  the  olden  times ;  to 
find  in  Christ's  character  the  model  for  the  spirit 
and  the  deeds  of  the  man  of  to-day.  In  the  light 
which  is  thrown  backward  from  the  cross,  Barak, 
Deborah,  Samson,  Jephthah, — yea,  Jael  with  her 
cruel  hammer  and  nail,  —  stand,  saying  to  the  men 
of  this  generation,  "  Repent,  repent !  we  acted  but 
according  to  the  light  we  had.  That  we  were 
God's  instruments  was  not  the  result  of  our  virtue, 
but  of  his  wisdom  and  tolerance,  which  used  the 
agents  at  his  hand.  But  you,  under  the  light  of 
the  gospel,  with  our  errors  on  record  to  warn  you, 
with  the  example  of  One  who  knew  no  sin  to 
beckon  you  to  purity  of  life  and  sweetness  of 
spirit,  —  repent  ye !  the  kingdom  of  heaven  is  at 
hand." 

My  friends,  this  history  is  reproduced,  on  a 
smaller  scale,  in  your  individual  life.  You  have 
had  your  times  of  ignorance  and  crudeness,  your 
times  of  the  dominion  of  passion ;  and  though  you 
have  had  less  excuse  than  they  had,  yet  how  your 
life  has  been  marked  by  the  forbearance  of  God  I 
How  much  he  has  overlooked  and  pardoned  in 
every  one  of  us !  What  is  the  practical  result  of 
this  forbearance  in  your  case  to-day  ?  Has  it  led 
you  to  a  true  estimate  of  sin?  Has  it  made  you 
afraid  of  sin  ?     Has  it  led  you  to  the  Lamb  of  God, 


340    GOD  AND  THE  TIMES  OF  IGNORANCE. 

which  taketh  away  the  sin  of  the  world?  or  are 
those  terrible  words  of  the  apostle  verified  in  you, 
"Or  despisest  thou  the  riches  of  his  goodness  and 
forbearance  and  long-suffering ;  not  knowing  that 
the  goodness  of  God  leadeth  thee  to  repentance  ? 
but  after  thy  hardness  and  impenitent  heart  treas- 
urest  up  unto  thyself  wrath  against  the  day  of 
wrath  and  revelation  of  the  righteous  judgment 
of  God ;  who  will  render  to  every  man  according 
to  his  deeds  "  ? 


XIX. 

THE  PROMISE   OF  INCOMPLETENESS. 


XIX. 

THE  PROMISE  OF   INCOMPLETENESS. 

"  And  these  all,  having  had  witness  borne  to  them  through 
their  faith,  received  not  the  promise,  God  having  provided  some 
better  thing  concerning  us,  that  ajiart  from  us  they  should  not 
be  made  perfect."  —  Heb.  xi,  39,  40. 

THERE  was  a  plain  mechanic  in  a  little  town 
in  Scotland,  who  feared  God,  and  built  houses 
for  a  livelihood.  He  never  had  more  than  three 
months  of  schooling  in  his  life.  Let  us  draw  a 
circle  round  the  seventy-five  years  of  that  life,  and 
look  at  it  merely  by  itself.  Measured  by  the  ordi- 
nary standards  of  the  world,  how  cramped  it  is  ! 
how  short  in  its  range  I  how  insignificant !  What 
does  one  builder  of  peasants'^  cottages,  more  or 
less,  matter  ?  But,  then,  can  we  look  at  that  life 
in  that  way?  Can  we  look  at  any  life  in  that 
way?  It  is  plain  to  ns  all  that  we  cannot;  for 
every  life  everywhere  establishes  connections  and 
creates  consequences.  The  statement  of  Scripture, 
"  No  one  of  us  liveth  unto  himself,"  may  be  said 
to  be  self-evident ;  and,  therefore,  no  man's  life- 
account  can  be  made  up  at  his  death.  It  is  with 
a  life  as  it  is  with  a  large  estate.  It  cannot  be 
closed  up  at  once  upon  the  death  of  the  testator. 

343 


344  THE   PROMISE   OF   INCOMPLETENESS. 

Certain  obligations  have  a  given  time  to  run.  Cer- 
tain outstanding  amounts  of  capital  may  not  be 
paid  in  for  years.  Certain  lands  or  houses  cannot 
be  sold  until  certain  other  persons  die.  And  we 
all  know,  moreover,  that  an  estate  may  depreciate 
after  the  testator's  death.  His  investments  may 
not  turn  out  well  in  the  end.  Indeed,  it  is  doubt- 
ful if  the  real  sum  total  of  any  man's  life  can  be 
stated  until  the  end  of  all  tilings.  This  humble 
mechanic,  for  instance,  was  the  father  of  a  son 
whose  name  is  known  and  honored  wherever  the 
English  language  is  spoken.  To  James  Carlyle's 
narrow  life  in  the  village  and  in  the  kirk  and  in 
his  own  cottage,  must  be  added  the  sum  of  Thomas 
Carlyle's  life,  and  the  influence  of  his  writings, 
and  the  influence  of  the  men  whose  thought  has 
been  stimulated  or  shaped  by  those  writings.  And 
so  the  son  himself  says,  "  Let  me  not  mourn  for 
my  father ;  let  me  do  wortliil}'  of  him  :  so  shall  he 
still  live  even  here  in  me,  and  his  worth  plant 
itself  honorably  forth  into  new  generations." 

I  have  taken  this  familiar  illustration  as  con- 
taining in  itself  the  substance  of  my  text  to-day. 
The  truth  it  gives  us  is,  that  no  man's  life  can  be 
estimated  by  itself,  but  helps  to  complete  the  past, 
and  is  completed  by  the  future.  No  man's  life  can 
be  judged  as  an  isolated  unit ;  it  must  be  judged 
as  part  of  a  whole :  and  therefore  every  man  is  a 
debtor  to  the  past  and  to  the  future. 

This  is  a  peculiar  text.  These  people  —  Abra- 
ham, Jacob,  Moses,  and  the  rest  —  were  the  spir- 
itual heroes  of  an  earlier  time,  representing  the 


THE   PROMISE   OF  INCOMPLETENESS.  345 

n'ation's  moral  high-water  mark.  They  were  pow- 
ers, and  society  acknowledged  and  bore  witness 
to  their  power.  Yet  there  was  a  good  in  store, 
which,  though  they  contributed  to  it,  did  not  come 
to  them.  There  was  a  promise  infolded  in  their 
life  which  was  not  fulfilled  to  them,  but  to  those 
who  came  after  them.  We  should  naturally  say, 
that,  if  there  were  any  large  and  healthful  result  to 
follow  the  sacrifice  of  home,  the  surrender  of  royal 
splendor  and  culture  for  the  desert  and  the  society 
of  a  slavish  rabble,  the  dangers  of  the  lion's  den 
and  of  the  fiery  furnace,  it  ought  to  have  fallen 
to  the  lot  of  those  who  made  these  sacrifices,  and 
faced  these  dangers.  But  it  was  not  so.  They 
bore  themselves,  in  these  hard  conditions,  in  such 
a  way  as  to  call  forth  the  admiring  witness  of  their 
time,  and  of  later  times ;  but  "  they  received  not 
the  promise,"  and  the  better  thing  provided  was 
for  those  who  came  after  them.  If  their  life  is  to 
be  estimated  only  in  itself,  if  its  record  is  to  cover 
only  the  sum  of  its  years,  then  this  state  of  things 
seems  unjust  and  cruel,  and  the  life  itself  of  little 
account. 

But  you  at  once  see  that  the  writer  is  taking 
a  far  wider  view  than  this.  He  is  contemplating 
these  early  heroes,  not  only  by  themselves,  but  as 
links  in  a  great  succession  of  men  of  faith.  He  is 
viewing  the  results  of  their  life  as  parts  of  the 
great  development  of  humanity  at  large.  What 
they  received  or  enjoyed  of  ease,  pleasure,  or  suc- 
cess is  not  the  question ;  but  in  what  relation  did 
they  stand  to  the  world's  welfare  ? 


346  THE   PROMISE  OF  INCOMPLETENESS. 

Now,  the  recogiiitiou  and  acceptance  of  this  as 
a  law  of  life  has  a  vast  and  decisive  influence  upon 
any  man's  character.  It  shapes  a  man  of  a  differ- 
ent type  from  one  who  regards  his  life  as  an  end 
to  itself;  and  it  is  here  set  down  to  the  credit  of 
these  Old-Testament  heroes,  as  an  element  of  their 
faith,  that  they  apprehended  this  larger  law,  and 
lived  by  it ;  that  they  put  mere  personal  consider- 
ations out  of  sight,  —  were  content  to  be  merely 
stages,  and  not  finalities,  in  the  great  growth  of 
human  history.  They  saw  that  there  was  a  richer 
future,  which  they  were  not  to  share  personally. 
Moses  had  to  be  content  with  the  wilderness,  and 
to  forego  the  promised  land,  to  which  he  had 
brought  the  people.  Jacob  was  not  to  enjoy  the 
brilliant  future  which  his  dying  eyes  saw.  Joseph 
could  provide  only  for  the  resting  of  his  bones  in 
Canaan :  he  was  not  to  see  it.  And  hence  the 
writer  says  of  these  men,  that  they  saw  the  prom- 
ises as  sailors  see  dimly  the  shore  of  a  desired  and 
beautiful  land,  where  they  may  not  disembark. 
They  "  confessed  that  they  were  strangers  and  pil- 
grims on  the  earth."  "  Now,"  he  continues,  "  they 
that  say  such  things  make  it  manifest  that  they  are 
seeking  after  a  country  of  their  own,"  —  a  place  be- , 
yond  this  world.  "  Now  they  desire  a  better  coun- 
try;  that  is,  an  heavenly."  In  other. words,  all  this 
matter  of  success  and  reward  and  happy  fixedness 
is  transferred  to  another  realm.  They  forego  these 
on  earth.  So  far  as  this  world  is  concerned,  their 
life  goes  to  minister  to  other  lives,  and  is  simply 
a  factor  in  the  progress  of  mankind  as  a  whole. 


THE   PROMISE   OF  INCOMPLETENESS.  347 

This  is  a  far  deeper  and  wider  conception  of 
faith  than  we  commonly  form.  We  are  disposed 
to  make  faith  exclusively  personal,  to  trust  God 
mostly  for  what  he  will  do  for  us,  or  for  those 
most  closely  bound  to  us.  We  say  to  ourselves. 
"  We  must  trust  God  for  daily  bread,  for  provision 
for  old  age  or  sickness,  for  a  place  in  heaven  ; " 
and  so  we  must.  So  Christ  commands  us  to 
do ;  but,  at  the  same  time,  he  teaches  us  to  give 
faith  a  much  wider  range.  Let  me  illustrate 
simply.  You  and  I  are  citizens  of  this  republic. 
More  than  twenty  years  ago  its  existence  was 
menaced.  War  was  in  the  land,  public  sentiment 
was  divided,  disaster  was  imminent.  Every  man 
knew  what  significance  lay  in  the  issue  of  that  con- 
flict for  a  long  future.  There  were  two  ways  of 
looking  at  the  matter.  A  man  might  consider 
simply  the  possible  effect  of  the  war  upon  his  prop- 
erty, —  whether  his  securities  would  be  depreciated 
or  not ;  whether  he  was  to  be  left  in  comfort  and 
luxury,  or  thrown  upon  his  daily  toil  for  his  daily 
bread,  —  and  that  view  would  determine  his  atti- 
tude towards  the  whole  conflict.  He  would  em- 
brace the  side  which  promised  best  for  himself- 
There  were  such  men,  and  they  met  with  the  con- 
tempt which  they  deserved  ;  but  there  were  other 
men,  and  more  of  them,  who  saw  something  larger 
than  their  own  fortune.  Their  faith  and  hope  and 
desire  took  in  the  whole  great  question  of  the 
nation's  welfare.  The  dominant  thought  with  them 
was  not,  "  What  will  become  of  me  and  of  my  for- 
tune ? ""  but,  "  What  is  to  become  of  the  country  ? '' 


348  THE   PROMISE   OF  INCOMPLETENESS. 

And  this  was  the  thought  which  made  them  joyful 
over  victory,  and  despondent  over  defeat.  This  was 
what  made  them  pour  their  money  into  the  nation's 
treasury,  and  put  themselves  into  the  ranks.  It  was 
the  merging  of  the  individual  man's  interest  in  the 
interest  of  the  State  and  of  millions  yet  unborn. 
Similarly,  in  becoming  Christians,  we  become  citi- 
zens of  heaven.  If  we  are  loyal  citizens,  our 
thought  must  include  the  interests  of  the  kingdom 
of  heaven  :  and  these  must  be  the  dominant  inter- 
ests, rising  above  all  selfish  considerations  ;  for  the 
very  first  condition  of  citizenship  in  the  kingdom 
of  God  is,  as  Christ  very  plainly  tells  us,  to  deny 
self.  We  are  parts  of  a  great  divine  economy,  of 
a  great  march  of  ideas  and  character ;  builders  on 
a  great  building  of  God,  each  carving  his  stone,  or 
laying  his  few  courses  of  brick ;  husbandmen  in 
God's  vast  domain,  each  tilling  his  few  acres,  —  one 
sowing,  another  reaping ;  one  planting,  another 
watering.  No  man's  faith  is  perfect  which  regards 
merely  his  own  salvation ;  no  man's  prayer  is  ac- 
cording to  Christ's  standard  which  leaves  out, 
"  Thy  kingdom  come.  Thy  will  be  done  on  earth 
as  it  is  in  heaven." 

Thus  identifying  ourselves  with  the  interests  of 
God's  kingdom,  —  the  whole  development  of  our 
race,  —  we  find  ourselves  identified  with  a  process. 
The  perfect  man,  the  perfect  society,  are  not  cre- 
ated out  of  hand.  They  have  not  come  yet ;  but 
they  are  slowly  coming,  and  coming  through  much 
crudeness  and  imperfection  by  the  way.  Thus, 
then,  the  kingdom  of  God  is  no  exception  to  the 


THE   PROMISE   OF   INCOMPLETENESS.  349 

law  which  obtains  in  other  kingdoms,  —  that 
growth  involves  imperfection  and  destruction. 
Take  the  law  as  it  holds  in  nature.  Growth  comes 
through  death.  The  corn  of  wheat  brings  forth 
fruit  only  as  it  dies.  In  nature's  processes,  we  find 
much  which  serves  merely  as  the  step  or  the  scaf- 
folding to  something  better  and  greater  and  more 
beautiful,  and  which,  when  its  purpose  is  accom- 
plished, passes  away.  Where  are  last  year's  leaves  ? 
They  came  forth  in  freshness  and  beaut}^  last 
spring,  as  they  are  coming  out  this  morning  ;  the)' 
waved  and  rustled  through  the  summer  heats  ; 
they  served  their  pui-pose  of  shade  ;  they  gathered 
the  influences  from  the  atmosphere  for  the  nurture 
of  the  tree,  and  gave  them  back  again  in  moisture  ; 
they  sheltered  the  growing  fruit ;  and  then,  when 
the  fruit  was  ripe,  they  faded,  and  fell  like  drop- 
ping gold  through  the  autumn  haze.  They  had 
done  their  work :  they  were  no  more  needed  on 
the  branch.  If  they  had  a  further  mission,  it 
must  be  under  new  forms  and  conditions.  There 
is  the  worm.  It  crawls  in  the  sun,  and  lies  upon 
the  leaf,  and  then  wraps  itself  in  the  cocoon ;  and 
then  springs  forth  the  butterfly  in  all  the  glory  of 
gold  and  purple  :  and  the  worm-life  and  the  co- 
coon-life have  done  their  work,  and  have  given 
that  beautiful  creation  to  the  air  and  the  flowers, 
and  they  pass  away. 

Go  higher  up,  into  the  life  of  man.  A  perfect, 
healthy  child,  how  beautiful  it  is  !  how  winning, 
how  innocent !  how  natural  and  graceful  its  atti- 
tudes !     What  parent  has  not  found  himself  look- 


o60  THE   PROMISE   OF   INCOMPLETENESS. 

ing  back  to  the  years  of  infancy  with  a  feeling 
that  the  years  which  have  made  his  children  men 
and  women  have  robbed  him  of  something  ineffably 
sweet  and  precious  ?  Childhood  is  only  a  stage  : 
so  is  youtli,  with  its  flush  of  hope,  its  high  aims, 
its  fulness  and  vigor  of  life  ;  and  so  manhood,  with 
its  strength  and  achievement.  In  a  normally 
developed  life,  each  stage,  as  it  passes  away,  hands 
over  to  its  successor  something  better  and  stronger. 
Does  the  process  end  with  old  age  ?  Is  there  not 
something  better  beyond  the  line  which  we  call 
death  ?  Scripture  itself  breaks  out  into  praises  of 
the  human  body,  so  fearfully  and  wonderfully 
made  ;  but  the  charnel-house  tells  you  what  becomes 
of  this  divinely  ingenious  mechanism :  "  Thou 
turnest  man  to  destruction  ;  and  sayest,  Return,  ye 
cliildren  of  men ; "  and  a  new  generation  comes  to 
the  front,  only  to  run  the  same  round,  wdiich  ends 
in  the  sepulchre.  A  wondrous  waste  it  seems  to  us. 
So  of  society.  It  passes  through  crude  condi- 
tions, which  give  place  to  higher  and  better  condi- 
tions. There  is  a  race  which  does  not  enjoy,  and 
is  not  fitted  to  enjoy,  Raphaels  and  Shaksj)eares 
and  Dantes,  but  which  plies  the  sword  and-  the 
axe,  —  a  rough-handed  and  rough-mannered  race. 
The  delicate  touch  of  the  harp-string,  the  cultured 
intercourse  of  the  saloon,  are  for  the  later  genera- 
tions for  which  these  have  made  the  standing- 
ground.  One  here  and  there,  some  prophet  of 
his  time,  catches  glimpses  of  these  higher  possi- 
bilities, but  only  sees  them  afar  off.  One  life  is 
spent  in  evolving  the  powers  of  electricity :    the 


THE   PROMISE  OF  INCOMPLETENESS.  :}51 

man  who  comes  after  reaps  the  full  benefit  of 
the  telegraph  and  telephone.  A  Columbus  dis- 
covers America :  we  enjoy  it. 

Go  still  higher,  into  the  region  of  religion  and 
worship.  The  same  law  holds.  Religion  is  not 
given  to  man  full-grown.  The  true  faith  works 
its  way  into  shape  and  power  out  of  a  mesh  of 
false  faiths.  One  by  one  these  fall  off,  and  die, 
leaving  only  what  is  essentially  true  to  be  taken 
up  into  the  new  and  higher  form.  The  history  of 
religion  is  indeed  a  history  of  the  march  of  eter- 
nal truths ;  but  it  is  also  a  history  of  accommoda- 
tion and  temporary  provision,  of  the  breaking  of 
types  and  the  fading  of  shadows :  "  He  taketh 
away  the  first,  that  he  may  establish  the  second." 
God  tolerates  stages  of  crudeness  and  imperfect 
moral  development :  "  The  times  of  ignorance 
God  overlooked."  He  holds  back  from  one  age 
forces  which  come  into  play  later.  He  left  out, 
for  instance,  from  earlier  methods  of  moral  train- 
ing, the  stimulus  and  discipline  which  we  get  from 
the  revelation  of  a  future  life.  Why?  I  do  not 
know.  Why  did  he  not  send  Christ  at  once  to 
Eden's  gate  to  meet  the  banished  inmates  ?  I  do 
not  know.  I  know  only  that  all  the  generations 
from  Abraham  to  David  are  fourteen  generations, 
and  from  David  unto  the  carrying  away  into 
Biibylon  are  fourteen  generations,  and  from  the 
carrying  away  into  Babylon  unto  Christ  are  four- 
teen generations.  Therefore  we  have  dark  hints 
of  a  race  of  giants,  of  an  age  of  brute  force,  out 
of  which  flash  the  sparks  from  Tubal  Cain's  ham- 


352  THE   PROMISE   OF  INCOMPLETENESS. 

mer ;  and  the  notes  of  the  wild  "song  of  the 
sword "  are  heard,  and  the  huge  bulk  of  Babel 
rises  through  the  mist.  A  chaos  of  wickedness, 
and  then  a  chaos  of  tumbling  waters.  Then  the 
patriarchal  history,  with  the  faith  of  Abraham, 
indeed,  but  Avith  the  worldliness  of  Lot,  and  the 
trickery  of  Jacob.  Then  the  seething  transition 
period  of  the  judges,  —  Shamgar  with  his  ox-goad, 
Jael  with  her  hammer  and  tent-pin,  Samson  with 
his  gigantic  strength  and  grim  humor  and  childish 
passion  and  gullibility,  Gideon  with  his  lamps  and 
pitchers  and  trumpets,  —  and  so  on,  down  through 
the  monarchy  and  the  prophetic  age.  Not  one 
of  the  men  mentioned  in  this  catalogue  in  the 
eleventh  of  Hebrews  can  be  held  up  as  a  perfect 
model  of  character  for  the  men  of  a  Christian  age. 
The  New-Testament  morality  is  higher  than  that 
of  the  old.  The  sabbath-school  child  of  to-day 
has  richer  spiritual  revelations  than  Abraham  had. 
The  humblest  Christian  believer  has  what  Samuel 
and  Elijah  had  not. 

And  as  to  worship,  we  say,  "  God  is  a  spirit : 
and  they  that  worship  him  must  worship  him  in 
spu'it  and  in  truth."  We  come  to  God  without 
priest  or  victim  or  symbol;  but  what  a  stretch 
between  our  stand-point  and  that  of  the  Israelite  ! 
—  a  stretch  strewn  with  broken  types.  What  a 
carefully  arranged  ritual  for  the  Jew  !  What 
solemn  charge  to  Moses  to  make  all  things  ac- 
cording to  the  pattern  drawn  up  in  heaven,  and 
shown  him  on  Sinai!  What  minute,  specific  direc- 
tions about  the  details  of  ark  and  altar,  fringe  and 


THE   PROMISE   OF   INCOMPLETENESS.  353 

curtain,  material  antl  workmanship  I  and  yet  only 
that  all  might  pass  away :  "  He  taketh  away  the 
first,  that  he  may  establish  tlie  second."  Prophet, 
priest,  king,  —  one  after  another,  God  breaks  these 
types  in  pieces  as  the  fulness  of  time  draws  on, 
when  Christ,  the  Teacher,  the  great  High-priest, 
the  Lord  of  lords,  is  to  come  into  the  world. 

We  come,  then,  to  the  second  truth  of  our  text. 
Having  seen  the  fact  of  imperfection,  we  see  that 
along  with  the  imperfection  goes  a  promise.  You 
notice  the  peculiar  word  here,  "  received  not  the 
promised  It  is  noted  as  a  mark  of  the  faith  of 
these  good  men,  that  they  saw  a  promise  of  some- 
thing better  in  the  imperfection  of  theii"  own  age. 
Christ  bears  witness  to  this  in  the  words,  "  Your 
father  Abraham  rejoiced  to  see  my  day ;  and  he 
saw  it,  and  was  glad."  In  like  manner,  Moses  saw 
a  nation  in  the  rabble  which  went  out  of  Egypt. 
To  him  the  desert  meant  Canaan.  So  in  nature, 
the  seed,  even  in  its  falling  into  the  ground  and 
dying,  utters  the  promise  of  the  corn :  the  blossom, 
as  it  is  borne  down  the  wind,  promises  the  fruit. 
Even  the  falling  leaf,  as  it  settles  down  to  its  new 
task,  promises  next  spring's  juices  and  leaves.  So 
in  the  moral  progress  of  our  race.  Paul  tells  us, 
that  "  That  is  not  first  which  is  spiritual,  but  that 
which  is  natural,"  that  "  The  first  man  is  of  the 
earth,  earthy ; "  but  in  these  he  sees  the  promise 
of  something  better.  '•'•  Aftertvards^  that  which  is 
spiritual.  As  we  have  borne  the  image  of  the 
earthy,  we  shall  also  bear  the  image  of  the  hea- 
venly.    It  is  sown  in  corruption ;   it  is  raised  in 


354  THE   PROMISE  OF  INCOMPLETENESS. 

iiicorruptioii."  Society,  in  its  best  development 
to-day,  is  imperfect :  the  ideal  form  of  government 
is  yet  to  be  revealed ;  but,  as  we  turn  over  to  the 
vision  of  John  on  Patmos,  we  see  a  perfect  society, 
a  holy  city,  a  heavenly  Jerusalem,  a  faultless  ad- 
ministration. 

Now,  the  practical  question  for  us  is,  what  is 
our  true  attitude  toAvard  these  two  facts  of  imper- 
fection and  promise?  Our  text  tells  us,  by  the 
example  of  these  men  of  old.  They  were  im- 
perfect men ;  they  lived  under  imperfect  condi- 
tions ;  they  saw  a  possible  good  which  was  not  for 
them :  but  through  faith  they  accepted  the  imper- 
fection, and  made  the  best  of  it,  and  cheerfully 
gave  their  energy,  and  endured  their  suffering,  to 
make  the  coming  man  and  the  coming  time  better 
than  themselves  and  their  time.  Hence  the  pecul- 
iar expression  of  the  text  :  "  they,  ivithout  us, 
should  not  be  made  perfect."  Abraham,  Isaac, 
Jacob,  good  men  in  their  time  and  way,  were  not 
complete  either  in  themselves  or  in  their  work. 
They  went  to  the  making  of  better  men,  like  Paul 
and  James  and  John.  Nor  were  they  completed 
in  Paul  and  James  and  John.  We  see  from  this 
chapter  that  their  work  did  not  end  with  their, 
death ;  for  they  are  taken  up  into  the  New-Testa- 
ment economy,  and  used  here  as  examples  and 
helps  to  the  faith  of  New-Testament  times.  Nor 
will  the  character  and  work  of  these  patriarchs 
be  complete  until  the  perfect  man  in  Christ  shall 
stand  forth  as  the  ripe  fruit  of  the  Christian  cen- 
turies, —  until  the  kingdom  of  Christ  shall  have 


THE   PROMISE   OF   INCOMPLETENESS.  355 

come,  and  his  will  shall  be  done  on  earth  as  it  is 
done  in  heaven.  In  that  man,  Abraham  and  Noah 
shall  be  made  perfect.  In  the  fully  ripened  social 
economy  of  that  time,  the  ages  of  the  patriarchs 
and  judges  and  prophets  shall  be  completed. 

We  are  on  the  same  line.  We  and  our  time  are 
simply  a  stage  toward  something  better.  With  all 
our  boast  of  high  civilization,  elaborated  jurispru- 
dence, rich  spiritual  acquirement,  and  vast  knowl- 
edge, there  is  something  better  for  the  men  of  the 
coming  time.  They  will  know  more,  and  enjoy 
more  than  we  do.  They  will  be  better  men  than 
we  are.  They  will  have  greater  riches  of  spiritual 
culture.  The  life  of  every  thoughtful  Christian  is 
full  of  pain  because  of  what  is  unrealized  and  un- 
fulfilled ;  because  he  discerns  greater  possibilities 
of  Christian  knowledge  and  Christian  efficiency: 
"  We  ourselves,  who  have  the  first  fruits  of  the 
spirit,  groan  within  ourselves."  We  are  chafed  by 
the  hardness,  the  ignorance,  the  obtuseness,  of  men. 
We  mourn  over  numberless  cruelties  and  neglects. 
We  are  indignant  at  the  corruption  and  trickery 
of  politics.  We  weep  in  secret  places  over  the 
coldness  and  apathy  of  the  church.  But  the  sim- 
ple question  for  each  of  us  is,  what  are  we  going 
to  do  with  it  all?  What  will  faith  do  for  us  in 
this  condition  of  things  ?  We  may  sit  down  with 
folded  hands,  and  say,  "  The  world  is  going  to  de- 
struction ;  happiness  is  impossible ;  perfection  is 
an  idle  dream ;  and  we  will  give  ourselves  up  to 
the  tide,  and  be  carried  down."  That  course  will 
not  mark  us  as  men  of  faith.     Or,  we  may  take  the 


356  THE   PROMISE   OF  INCOMPLETENESS. 

stand-point  of  faith,  the  stand-point  of  the  men  of 
this  chapter.  If  perfection  is  not  for  us  nor  for 
our  time,  it  need  not  follow  that  perfection  is 
impossible.  If  perfection  cannot  attach  to  any  one 
age,  it  may  come  out  as  the  resultant  of  all  the 
ages.  The  question  is  simply  this:  are  we  will- 
ing to  accept  the  imperfection  of  our  own  time, 
and  to  do  our  utmost  and  our  best  in  it,  knowing 
that  we  shall  not  reap  what  we  sow  with  tears  and 
toil?  knowing  that  the  perfect  man  and  the  per- 
fect time  are  to  come  in  hereafter  ? 

It  is  a  high  test  of  faith  for  a  man  to  do  his  best 
under  tem})orary  conditions,  as  a  mere  fraction  of 
a  great  whole,  as  a  mere  means  to  the  development 
of  some  better  thing  in  a  future  which  he  is  not 
to  enjoy ;  and  yet  that  is  the  lesson  which  God's 
administration  teaches  us.  How  much  care  and 
skill  and  beauty  go  into  merely  temporary  things ! 
Take  a  wheat-corn,  that  very  thing  which  is  to 
fall  into  the  ground  and  die,  and  split  it  open,  and 
put  it  under  a  microscoiDe,  and  what  a  perfect 
and  beautiful  organism  it  is  !  Look  at  that  apple- 
blossom,  which  in  a  few  days  will  be  blown  away 
by  the  wind,  and  what  perfection  of  form,  what 
delicacy  of  texture  and  tint !  Each  one  of  those 
living  motes  which  dances  for  an  hour  in  the  set- 
ting sunlight  is  finished  with  all  the  nicety  of 
your  own  anatomy.  Nature  is  j)rodigal  in  her 
apparent  waste  of  beautiful  and  perfect  things. 
So,  when  God  gave  a  temporary  system  of  worship 
to  carry  men  over  to  Christ,  how  carefully  selected 
were  the  types ;  how  stringent  the  insistence  on 


THE   PROMISE   OF  INCOMPLETENESS.  357 

details  which  seem  trivial  to  us  I  Does  it  not  seem 
strange  to  us  to  find  the  Almighty  giving  direc- 
tions about  the  dimensions  of  the  tabernacle,  the 
weaving  of  fringes,  the  color  of  curtains,  the  cut- 
ting of  priests'  robes  ?  Did  it  matter  if  the  taber- 
nacle or  the  ark  or  the  table  of  shew-bread  were 
a  foot  longer  or  shorter  ?  Did  it  matter  if  there 
were  one  row  more  or  less  of  knops  and  flowers  on 
a  cornice  or  a  pillar?  It  did  matter  in  God's  eyes. 
He  would  let  no  imperfect  nor  haphazard  work  go 
out  of  his  hands,  though  it  were  only  to  serve  the 
purpose  of  a  day.  Cannot  we  read  this  lesson  ? 
Shall  we  refuse  our  best,  because  our  best  is  to  be 
merged  into  something  better  ?  Or  shall  we  not 
rather  feel  ourselves  at  once  stimulated  and 
honored  by  being  allowed  to  contribute  our  best 
to  the  great  result  which  is  by  and  by  to  gather 
up  into  itself  the  best  of  all  the  ages  ? 

You  have  read  how,  m  the  old  border-wars  of 
Scotland,  the  tidings  of  invasion  and  the  summons 
to  arms  were  carried  by  the  fiery  cross.  One  run- 
ner took  it,  and  went  at  full  speed  to  a  certain 
point,  telling  the  news  as  he  went,  and  then  gave 
it  to  another,  who  ran  on  in  like  manner.  It  was 
not .  for  the  messenger  to  whom  that  summons 
came  to  sit  down  and  prepare  for  the  defence  of 
his  own  house  and  the  protection  of  his  flocks 
and  herds.  He  must  take  the  cross,  and  run  for 
the  next  stage.  Brethren,  the  message  of  Christ's 
cross  points  us  beyond  ourselves  and  our  own 
interest  and  our  own  time.  It  lays  on  us  the 
charge    of   the    coming  time.     It  bids  us  do  our 


358  THE   PROMISE   OF  INCOMPLETENESS. 

best  in  our  own  time,  as  a  means  to  making  tliat 
cross  the  central  fact  of  the  future  time.  "  After 
us,  the  deluge  "  was  the  motto  of  debauchers  and 
sensualists,  who  cared  only  for  what  the  present 
might  yield  them,  and  who  were  willing  to  leave 
the  future  to  work  out  its  problem,  and  struggle 
with  its  suffering,  as  best  it  might ;  who  would  not 
give  a  thought  nor  lift  a  finger  to  make  that  prob- 
lem easier  and  that  suffering  lighter.  That  is  no 
motto  for  Christians.  True  manhood  means  more 
than  eating  and  drinking,  and  dying  to-morrow. 
Our  stage  of  life  contains  a  promise  for  the  next 
stage,  that  it  shall  be  better  and  higher  for  our 
faithful  toil.  Our  problem  is,  to  push  that  promise 
nearer  to  its  fulfilment. 

Thus,  then,  let  us  take  the  promise  of  the  better 
thing  into  the  inferior,  incomplete  conditions  of 
to-day.  Let  us  accept  the  fact  of  incompleteness : 
not  passively  nor  idly.  That  were  to  exclude 
faith,  and  faith  is  the  very  keynote  of  this  lesson. 
Nor,  on  the  other  hand,  despairingly  nor  angrily. 
That  were  presumptuous,  and  useless  as  well.  But 
let  us  recognize  in  it  a  promise  of  completeness,  a 
stage  towards  it,  and  a  call  to  promote  it.  No  one 
of  us  can  be  more  than  a  factor  in  the  world's  his- 
tory. The  power  of  each  factor  will  appear  only 
when  the  whole  column  shall  be  cast  up.  The 
sum  total  will  be  greater  than  any  factor ;  but,  for 
the  very  reason  that  it  will  include  all  the  factors. 
"We  must  be  slow,"  as  one  remarks,  "to  judge 
unfinished  architecture."  Truthfully  said  the  old 
Greek  poet,   "  The  days  to  come   are  the  wisest 


THE   PROMISE   OF  INCOMPLETENESS.  359 

witnesses."  If  there  be  truth  in  t]iat  thcoiy  of 
development,  so  widely  accepted  in  this  day ;  if  we 
are  living  in  an  incomplete  physical  universe,  no 
less  than  in  partly  developed  moral  and  spiritual 
conditions,  —  that  fact  goes  to  show,  that  one  law 
holds  from  the  natural  up  to  the  spiritual.  That 
holds  out  the  hope  that  all  the  apparent  waste  in 
nature  will  one  day  be  accounted  for,  and  sliown 
to  be  no  waste  :  — 

"  That  nothing  walks  with  aimless  feet ; 
That  not  one  life  shall  be  destroyed, 
Or  cast  as  rubbish  to  the  void, 
When  God  hath  made  the  pile  complete. 

That  not  a  worm  is  cloven  in  vain ; 

That  not  a  moth,  with  vain  desire. 

Is  shrivelled  in  a  fruitless  fire, 
Or  but  subserves  another's  gain." 

That  points  again  to  the  larger  hope,  that  the 
imperfect  work  of  true  men,  the  imperfect  teaching 
of  half-taught  men,  the  imperfect  moral  develop- 
ment of  primitive  men,  and  all  the  disappointed 
aspiration  and  seemingly  fruitless  toil  and  rejected 
testimony  of  God's  workmen  in  all  times,  will  be 
found  again,  revealed  in  its  true  value  and  power, 
at  the  unfolding  of 

"  That  one  far-off,  divine  event, 
To  which  the  whole  creation  moves." 

It  was  a  profound  remark  of  a  modern  essayist, 
that  the  continual  failure  of  eminently  endowed 
men  to  reach  the  highest  standard  has  in  it  some- 
thing more  consoling  than  disheartening,  and  con- 


360  THE   PROMISE   OF  INCOMPLETENESS. 

tains  an  "  inspiring  liint  that  it  is  mankind^  and 
not  special  men^  that  are  to  be  shaped  at  last  into 
the  image  of  God ;  and  that  the  endless  life  of  the 
generations  may  hope  to  come  nearer  that  goal,  of 
which  the  short-breathed  three-score  years  and  ten 
fall  too  unhappily  short."  The  present,  for  each  of 
us,  bears  the  sign  of  the  cross.  The  crown  is  in 
the  future.  The  true  suggestion  of  incomplete- 
ness now  is  faith  and  duty,  not  reward ;  sowing, 
not  fruition.  Only,  with  the  cross,  Christ  is  in  the 
present;  and  the  future  shall  see  his  own  men  and 
his  own  work  complete  in  him. 


XX. 
ONLY    A    LITTLE    WHILE. 


XX. 

ONLY   A   LITTLE  WHILE. 

"But  this  I  say,  brethren,  the  time  is  short:  it  remaineth, 
that  both  they  that  have  wives,  be  as  though  they  had  none ; 

"  And  they  that  weep,  as  though  they  wept  not;  and  they  that 
rejoice,  as  though  they  rejoiced  not ;  and  they  that  buy,  as  though 
they  possessed  not; 

"And  they  that  use  this  world,  as  not  abusing  it:  for  the 
fashion  of  this  world  passeth  away."  —  1  Cok.  vii.  29-31. 

THERE  is  no  difference  of  opinion  about  that 
first  statement,  "  The  time  is  short."     It  has 
passed  into  a  commonplace. 

But  there  is  a  diiference  between  the  admission, 
and  the  practical  recognition,  of  a  fact.  Even  in  a 
case  like  this,  it  may  faMy  be  asked,  What  is  the 
practical  bearing  of  our  admission  ?  There  is  lit- 
tle, if  any,  difference  here  between  ourselves  and 
the  men  to  whom  Paul  wrote.  They  knew  that 
no  long  time,  at  the  longest,  remained  for  them  on 
earth ;  they  believed  that  the  old  order  of  things 
was  soon  to  give  place  to  a  new  and  different  and 
better  order ;  yet  the  apostle  evidently  thought 
that  a  reminder  of  the  fact  was  necessary,  even  to 
those  within  the  Christian  circle.  Evidently  he 
was  impressed  with  the  fact  that  men  were  marry- 
ing and  giving  in  marriage,  weeping  and  rejoicing, 

36.3 


364  ONLY   A  LITTLE    WHILE. 

buying  and  selling  and  laying  up  possessions,  as  if 
the  time  were  not  short. 

And  the  state  of  things  now,  I  repeat,  is  not 
materially  different.  Paul's  warning  is  not  super- 
fluous. Whatever  men  believe  about  the  perma- 
nence of  tlie  present  order  of  things,  multitudes  of 
them  act  as  if  it  were  permanent. 

The  time,  then,  is  short.  The  world,  for  us,  is 
fast  passing  away.  Deatli  cannot  be  far  off,  and 
death  is  going  to  introduce  us  into  new  conditions. 
We,  as  Christians,  profess  to  believe  that  the  new 
order  of  things  is  to  be  better  than  the  present 
order;  that  it  will  clear  up  what  is  now  dark;  that 
it  will  resolve  what  is  now  confused ;  that  it  will 
adjust  and  correct  what  is  now  wrong;  that  it 
will  rectify  and  explain  what  now  seems  unjust. 
Our  one  question  is,  What  is  our  proper  attitude 
towards  the  present  temporary,  brief  life  which 
remains  to  us,  in  view  of  the  new  and  larger  life 
to  come  ?  What  is  the  practical  bearing  of  that 
single  fact  of  brevity  upon  our  doing,  enjoymg, 
and  suffering  here? 

As  a  fact  of  common  life,  we  see  that  the  atti- 
tude of  people  towards  a  temporary  and  transient 
state  of  affairs  is  very  different  from  their  attitude? 
towards  something  permanent.  No  man  fits  up 
the  room  at  the  hotel  where  he  is  to  stay  for  a 
week  or  a  month,  as  he  does  the  home  where  he 
expects  to  pass  his  life.  When  one  is  waiting  in 
the  vestibule  of  a  public  hall  where  he  is  to  hear 
some  great  orator,  or  witness  some  spectacle,  he 
does  not  give  much  thought  to  the  inconveniences 


ONLY   A   LITTLE    WHILE.  365 

of  his  situation.  There  is  no  place  to  sit  down 
comfortably ;  the  vestibule  may  be  chilly ;  there 
may  be  a  good  deal  of  pushing  and  crowding,  and 
he  may  be  obliged  to  come  in  contact  with  dis- 
agreeable people :  but  he  takes  very  little  note  of 
these  things.  The  thing  for  which  he  has  come  is 
behind  those  doors ;  there  his  seat  is  secured ; 
there  will  be  warmth  and  light  and  comfort :  and 
he  says  to  himself,  if  he  gives  any  thought  at  all 
to  the  matter,  "  The  time  is  short.  This  is  but  for 
a  few  minutes  ;  it  will  soon  be  over  ;  it  is  not 
worth  troubling  myself  about."  When  a  man  rides 
down  from  the  central  station  in  a  street-car,  of 
course  he  would  rather  have  a  seat,  and  the  crowd- 
ing is  rather  annoying ;  but  he  never  thinks  of 
making  a  serious  matter  of  that.  His  object  is 
to  get  down  to  business.  The  great  interest  of 
the  day  is  in  his  office ;  and  so  he  holds  on  by  the 
strap,  and  occupies  his  mind  with  the  plans  of 
the  day,  and  dismisses  all  care  for  the  temporary 
annoyance. 

We  all  agree  that  this  is  right,  reasonable,  sen- 
sible. We  laugh  at  the  man  who  invests  temporary 
and  transient  conditions  with  the  importance  of 
permanent  ones.  But  do  we  recognize  the  larger 
applications  of  the  same  principle?  Suppose  we 
simply  enlarge  the  spaces  a  little,  and  set  this  life 
of  sixty,  seventy,  or  fourscore  years  over  against 
the  eternal  life  of  the  future.  The  two  spaces  are 
related  to  each  other  as  the  vestibule  to  the  hall, 
the  transit  on  the  car  to  the  day's  business.  Well, 
then,  can  we  bring  ourselves  practically  to  recog- 


366  ONLY   A   LITTLE   WHILE. 

nize  this  relation  ;  really  to  regard  this  life  as  the 
ante-chamber,  the  time  of  transit,  the  room  in  the 
inn  where  we  stay  until  our  house  is  prepared  '^ 
Can  we  bring  ourselves  to  regard  our  real  life  as 
ct)miuencing  only  when  this  life  shall  be  over ;  to 
look  for  our  real,  permanent  interests,  for  all  fixed- 
ness and  perfection  of  condition,  in  the  life  beyond  ; 
and  to  treat  the  affairs  of  this  life  accordingly  ? 

This  is  very  clearly  the  drift  of  the  apostle's 
words;  and  not  only  here,  but  all  through  his 
writings,  one  cannot  read  without  seeing  how  very 
slight  the  hold  of  this  life  is  upon  him.  Not  that 
he  has  any  morbid,  sentimental  desire  to  die,  not 
that  he  is  indifferent  to  the  duties  and  opportuni- 
ties of  this  life  ;  but  his  whole  mode  of  looking 
at  it  and  speaking  of  it  indicates  that  it  is  to  him 
merely  a  preparatory  stage,  a  period  of  transit. 
He  is  quite  willing  to  abide  in  the  flesh  as  long  as 
God  wills,  and  he  proposes  to  occupy  himself 
during  that  period  for  the  furtherance  of  his 
brethren's  faith  ;  but  he  does  not  hesitate  to  say 
plainly,  that  to  depart  and  be  with  Christ  is  much 
the  better  thing,  and  that  he  sometimes  has  to 
struggle  between  the  claims  of  the  present  duty 
and  the  overmastering  desire  to  enter  upon  his 
new  and  better  life. 

Now,  following  the  order  of  om-  text,  we  find 
Paul  bringing  this  idea  to  bear  in  certain  special 
directions,  and  intimating  how  it  ought  to  affect 
Christians  in  certain  departments  of  their  life  and 
work.  But,  before  speaking  of  these  in  detail,  let 
me  say,  what  perhaps  hardly  needs  to  be  said,  that 


ONLY  A   LITTLE  WHILE.  367 

neither  here  nor  elsewhere  does  Paul,  nor  any 
other  inspired  writer,  use  the  fact  of  the  shortness 
of  life  to  encourage  a  sense  of  indifference  to 
life's  duties.  The  teaching  of  Christ  and  of  his 
apostles  is  clear  and  sharp,  that  life,  however  short, 
is  a  time  of  work,  of  duty,  of  ministry.  If  the 
world  is  not  to  be  abused,  it  is  none  the  less  to  be 
used.  Short  as  the  time  is,  it  is  long  enough  for 
much  weeping  and  rejoicing ;  and,  because  it  is 
short,  we  are  not  to  cultivate  indifference  to  the 
joy  and  sorrow  of  our  brethren,  but  rather  to  re- 
joice with  them  that  rejoice,  and  weep  with  them 
that  weep.  Buying  and  selling  must  go  on,  even 
in  this  short  space :  we  are  none  the  less  to  be 
diliorent  in  business  because  the  time  is  short. 
There  may  be  in  the  ante-chamber  not  a  few  beau- 
tiful pictures,  a  marble  column  which  has  blos- 
somed under  the  sculptor's  chisel,  or  a  fountain  of 
sweet  waters.  These  things  are  for  us :  we  may 
and  ought  to  enjoy  them.  Life,  however  short, 
has  its  joys  and  its  means  of  giving  joy.  We  can- 
not afford  to  be  indifferent  to  its  sunny  side,  nor 
escape  our  duty  of  making  it  just  as  sunny  as  we 
can.  We  are  not  excused  from  the  courtesies  of 
life,  even  on  a  street-ear ;  and  if  we  can  grasp  the 
hand  of  an  old  friend  with  our  unoccupied  hand, 
and  interchange  a  few  hearty  words,  so  much  the 
better.  The  other  world  may  be,  and  is,  the  prime 
fact ;  but  this  world  is  a  fact,  too,  though  a  second- 
ary one.  If  Paul  says,  "  It  remaineth  that  those 
who  have  wives  be  as  though  they  had  none,"  we 
are  not  to  conclude,  that,  because  a  man  expects  to 


368  ONLY  A  LITTLE   WHILE. 

depart  for  heaven  in  a  short  time,  he  is  therefore 
to  treat  his  wife  as  though  she  were  not. 

This  being  premised,  let  us  now  follow  the 
apostle  into  some  of  the  details  of  his  application. 

"  The  time  is  short :  it  reraaineth,  that  both 
they  that  have  wives  be  as  though  they  had 
none."  By  this  we  may  assume  that  the  apostle 
represents  the  whole  class  of  domestic  relations. 
These  are  the  nearest  and  dearest  of  all  the  ties 
which  bind  us  to  earth  ;  these  relations  call  ojLit 
our  deepest  affections,  our  best  energies  ;  they  are 
the  things  which  make  life  most  attractive  to  us, 
and  death  hardest ;  there  lie  the  possibilities  of 
our  worst  heart-breaks.  And  God  himself  insti- 
tuted these  relations,  and  Christ  adorned  and 
beautified  and  sanctified  them  by  his  presence  and 
first  miracle  at  Cana ;  and  Paul  chooses  the  love  of 
husband  and  wife  as  a  figure  of  the  love  of  Christ 
for  the  church.  Yet  it  remameth,  that  they  that 
have  wives  be  as  though  they  had  none. 

It  is  very  easy  to  see,  in  the  light  of  familiar 
social  facts,  the  side  on  which  the  apostle  would 
guard  us.  If  our  earthly  homes  crowd  out  the 
attractions  of  the  heavenly  home,  if  we  use  them 
to  foster  our  worldliness,  our  pride  and  vanity  and 
self-indulgence,  we  are  misusing  them ;  and  we 
need  the  apostle's  caution.  When  that  side  of  our 
life  becomes  so  attractive  as  to  shut  out  the  fast- 
approaching  life  of  eternity,  when  home  tempts 
us  to  lounge  and  enjoy  while  life's  short  day  is 
ringing  with  culls  to  God's  work,  when  home 
ceases  to  be  the  nurseiy  of  consecrated  power,  a 


ONLY   A   LITTLE   WHILE.  369 

temple  of  worship,  a  training-school  for  Christ,  a 
scene  of  preparation  for  heaven,  and  becomes, 
instead,  a  base  for  fashion  and  for  shallow  pleas- 
ure, —  then  it  is  time  to  consider  the  temptation 
and  danger  which  Inrk  even  in  so  holy  a  thing  as 
domestic  life,  to  draw  aside  the  tapestries,  and  see 
how  fast  the  sun  is  hastening  towards  the  west,  to 
face  the  hour  when  a  voice  shall  call  us  forth  from 
these  beloved  doors,  to  return  no  more. 

And  then,  too,  we  know  that  often  the  family 
relation  is  unfortunately  not  the  earthly  type  of 
heaven.  We  know  how  men  make  it  the  instru- 
ment of  fostering  their  pride  of  birth,  and  of  per- 
petuating some  insignificant  fact  of  lineage ;  and 
how,  for  the  sake  of  preserving  a  family  name, 
loveliness  and  innocence  are  constrained  into  alli- 
ance with  senility  and  debauchery.  If  England's 
laureate  had  never  written  another  line,  he  would 
have  earned  the  eternal  gratitude  of  every  true 
soul  by  the  brand  he  has  left  on  that  monstrous 
fiction  of  long  descent,  in  his  poem  of  "Aylmer's 
Field."  Even  more  bitter  in  the  quiet  satire  of 
the  Psalmist :  "  Their  inward  thought  is,  that  their 
houses  shall  continue  forever,  and  their  dwelling- 
places  to  all  generations ;  they  call  their  lands 
after  their  own  names." 

On  the  contrary,  we  find  that,  in  the  New 
Testament,  domestic  life  is  always  treated  with 
special  reference  to  the  life  to  come.  The  insti- 
tution of  the  family,  beyond  any  human  institu- 
tion, points  up  to  God.  God  himself  takes  the 
name  of  the  family  head ;   marriage  is  to   be   in 


870  ONLY  A  LITTLE   WHILE. 

the  Lord ;  children  are  to  be  trained  in  the  nurture 
and  admonition  of  the  Lord.  Domestic  life  is 
regarded,  first  of  all,  as  a  link  between  this  short 
life  and  the  long  future ;  as  a  means  to  godly 
affections,  godly  living,  godly  training,  godly  work- 
ing. And  thus,  in  its  Scriptural  aspect,  as  a  prepa- 
ration and  not  a  finality,  it  emphasizes  the  words, 
''  The  time  is  short."  The  apostle's  injunction  is 
met  when  the  home  is  treated  as  a  means  to  holy 
and  useful  living  here,  and  as  a  preparation  for  a 
better  home  hereafter. 

The  apostle  next  takes  up  the  bearing  of  this 
fact  upon  the  joy  and  sorrow  of  this  world :  "  The 
time  is  short.  It  remaineth  that  they  who  weep 
should  be  as  though  they  wept  not,  and  they  that 
rejoice,  as  though  they  rejoiced  not." 

Let  us  confine  ourselves  to  one  element  of  the 
world's  pain  and  sorrow, — ;  injustice.  There  is 
the  fact,  patent  enough  to  the  most  careless,  that 
multitudes  of  people  fail  to  get  their  deserts.  The 
innocent  suffer ;  the  good  do  not  succeed ;  the  bad 
prosper ;  honesty  and  fidelity  go  to  the  wall,  while 
villany  rides  by  in  triumph.  It  is  not  always  so  ; 
but  why  is  it  so  at  all?  Away  back  in  the  far 
past  we  find  Job  wrestling  with  the  question.  It 
furnishes,  as  it  always  has  furnished,  not  only  a 
theological  problem,  but  a  practical  problem.  On 
the  one  hand,  the  reasoner  asks,  "  How  did  it  come 
to  pass?  Why  is  it  allowed?"  On  the  other 
hand,  the  man  who  is  trying  to  live  rightly  and 
to  save  his  soul  asks,  "What  shall  I  do  with  it? 
How  shall  I  adjust  myself  to  it?" 


ONLY  A  LITTLE   WHILE.  371 

And  it  is  interesting  to  study  the  various  an- 
swers which  are  given  to  the  latter  question. 
Here  comes  a  Rousseau,  who  tells  us  it  is  all  un- 
necessary. It  is  all  the  result  of  false  training. 
Human  nature  is  good ;  and,  if  you  only  educate 
it  properly,  its  good  will  have  free  play,  and  its 
evil  will  be  checked,  and  we  shall  have  a  reign  of 
peace,  liberty,  equality,  and  fraternity.  You  can 
read  history  for  yourselves,  and  can  study  the 
value  of  Rousseau's  answer  by  the  side  of  the 
guillotine  and  in  the  lurid  light  of  the  French 
Revolution. 

Or,  here  comes  the  communist,  saymg,  "  Only 
do  away  with  all  private  interest,  and  merge  all 
individual  right  and  difference  in  the  public,  and 
all  will  be  well."  Doubtless,  if  you  could  only  be 
sure  of  universal  love  and  disinterestedness  among 
men ;  but,  unfortunately,  the  commune  of  Paris 
and  the  history  of  Nihilism  have  some  significant 
stories  to  tell  of  that  experiment. 

Or,  there  were  earlier  answers.  There  was  the 
Stoic,  who  steeled  himself  against  injustice,  treated 
feeling  as  a  disease,  and  cultivated  insensibility  to 
pain,  anger,  and  pity  alike.  Or,  there  was  the 
Epicurean,  saying,  "Yes,  pain  and  sorrow  from 
human  wrong  are  facts;  but  I  will  evade  them. 
I  will  keep  out  of  all  such  relations  with  men  as 
will  engender  injustice  or  cruelty.  I  will  have  no 
friendships,  and  therefore  no  misunderstandings. 
I  will  have  no  zeal,  and  therefore  I  will  have  no 
disappointments.  I  will  espouse  no  cause,  and 
therefore  I  will  suffer  no  defeats.     I  will  confer 


87 2  ONLY   A  LITTLE  WHILE. 

no  obligations,  and  therefore  I  shall  expose  myself 
to  no  ingratitude. 

And  now  you  will  observe  one  fact,  common  to 
all  these  views,  —  that  they  are  strictly  bounded 
by  this  life.  The  evil,  if  it  is  to  be  corrected,  must 
be  corrected  here ;  and  this  is  the  real  cleavage- 
line  between  these  views  and  the  New-Testament 
view  which  Paul  represents  in  our  text. 

For  you  perceive  that  the  New  Testament  shows 
no  sympathy  with  the  sentimentalist  view,  that  all 
that  is  needed  to  prevent  injustice  is  proper  edu- 
cation. It  treats  it  as  a  necessary  evil.  It  is  a 
fact,  and  will  be  a  fact  so  long  as  human  society  is 
not  under  the  power  of  divine  love. 

Further :  the  New  Testament  does  not  give  us 
a  picture  of  any  favored  man  who  escapes  the 
world's  injustice.  On  the  contrary,  it  is  a  portrait- 
gallery  of  mai-tyrs.  The  better  its  men,  the  more 
they  suffer  at  the  world's  hands.  Christ  gathers 
up  into  himself  all  virtues  and  perfections;  and 
the  cross  is  the  world's  practical  comment  upon 
the  man  in  whom  no  fault  could  be  found.  His 
name,  given  by  prophecy,  and  countersigned  by 
his  life,  is  "  Man  of  sorrows."  His  great  service 
to  the  world  is  through  crucifixion. 

And  the  New  Testament,  moreover,  gives  us  no 
men  of  iron,  insensible  to  suffering. .  The  victims 
of  tlie  world's  cruelty  are  real  sufferers.  If  tlie 
New  Testament  is  full  of  the  triumph  over  pain, 
it  is  equall}^  full  of  the  human  sense  of  pain.  The 
perfect  Man  shows  us  liis  natural  recoil  from  suf- 
fering when  he  says,  "  Save  me  from  this  hour," 


ONLY  A  LITTLE  WHILE.  373 

and,  "  If  it  be  possible,  let  this  cup  pass  from  me." 
Paul  is  no  stoic,  but  thoroughly  a  man  in  his  keen 
sense  of  cruelty  and  wrong.  He  never  affects  any 
other  sentiment.  His  body  is  a  body  of  humilia- 
tion,—  a  tent,  flapping  and  straining  in  the  winds 
of  time,  which  he  will  be  only  too  glad  to  have 
taken  down,  so  that  he  can  break  camp,  and  go  to 
the  fair  city  where  Christ  is. 

Once  more :  the  New  Testament  puts  every 
Christian  in  a  positive  attitude  towards  this  fact. 
He  cannot  ignore  it ;  he  cannot  evade  it ;  he  must 
feel  it ;  and  he  must  feel  towards  it  in  the  right 
way:  and  that  way  is  not  to  live  under  protest, 
and  let  the  world's  injustice  eat  all  the  sweetness 
out  of  life.  There  are  people  who  have  gotten 
to  brooding  over  the  misery  and  inequality  and 
cruelty  of  this  life  until  they  are  literally  filled 
with  cursing.  The  world  will  not  take  them  at 
their  own  value :  therefore  they  hate  the  world. 
The  world  deals  unjustly  by  them  and  theirs:  they 
stand  aloof  from  the  world.  They  see  certain 
things  wrong  m  the  church ;  they  mutter  in  secret 
places,  and  can  see  no  good  in  the  church :  all  is 
formalism  and  hypocrisy.  You  find  no  warrant 
for  any  thing  of  this  kind  in  the  New  Testament : 
you  find  the  true  bearing  of  a  Son  of  God  towards 
the  world's  evil  summed  up  in  our  Saviour's  words, 
"Resist  not  evil."  This  is  really  the  essence  of 
this  part  of  our  text :  "  They  that  weep ;  they  that 
feel  keenly  the  world's  cruelty  and  sorrow,  as  if 
they  wept  not : "  not  acting  as  though  all  of  life 
consisted  ui  the  world's  being  just  and  kindly  to 


374  ONLY  A  LITTLE   WHILE. 

them,  as  if  to  live  were  only  not  to  weep ;  not  wast- 
ing time  in  idle  lamentation  or  impotent  scolding ; 
not  consuming  themselves  in  the  effort  to  prove  to 
the  world  how  great  or  how  good  they  are :  but, 
on  the  contrary,  feeling  that  it  is  far  more  impor- 
tant to  be  right  than  to  be  thought  right ;  far  more 
important  to  be  sweet  and  loving  and  tolerant, 
and  cheerfully  busy  about  God's  work,  than  that 
the  world  should  give  them  their  due. 

Look  at  Paul's  words  about  love.  They  imply 
throughout  an  element  of  evil  and  injustice  upon 
which  it  is  to  exert  itself.  In  that  thirteenth 
chapter  of  First  Corinthians,  the  ver}^  keynote  is 
struck  by  Christ's  words :  "  If  ye  love  them  that 
love  you,  what  thank  have  ye  ?  "  It  is  against  ha- 
tred, evil,  injustice,  that  the  quality  of  love  proves 
itself.  "  Beareth  all  things :  "  love,  the  best  thing 
in  this  world  or  in  heaven,  is  none  too  good  for  a 
burden-bearer,  —  nay,  bears  the  heaviest  burdens  of 
all.  "Believeth  all  things:"  love,  which  is  most 
wounded  by  faithlessness  and  treachery,  is  the  last 
to  lose  faith  in  humanity.  "Hopeth  all  things:  " 
love  is  set  hopefully  over  against  the  multitude 
of  facts  in  man,  and  in  society,  which  tempt  to 
hopelessness.  And  so  with  the  rest.  The  very 
principle  of  the  divine  life,  love,  most  warmed  by 
sympathy,  most  sensitive  to  coldness  .and  injustice, 
most  deeply  cut  by  cruelty,  is  the  very  principle 
which  is  not  provoked,  and  which  thinketh  no 
evil,  and  which  never  faileth.  You  find  the  same 
thought  underlying  Paul's  words  in  the  Epistle  to 
the  Romans  about  "the  powers  that  be."     How 


ONLY  A  LITTLE  WHILE.  875 

kind  and  just  tliose  powers  were  he  knew  who  had 
felt  the  scourge  at  Philippi,  and  had  known  the 
horrors  of  the  inner  prison  ;  yet,  "  Let  every  soul 
be  subject  under  the  higher  powers.  Servants, 
obey  your  masters  according  to  the  flesh."  And  so 
Peter :  "  It  is  thankworthy  if  a  man,  for  conscience' 
sake,  endure  grief,  suffering  wrongfully ; "  for  Christ, 
our  great  example,  suffered  not  only  from  the  un- 
just, but  for  the  unjust,  esteeming  his  suffering  of 
little  account  if  he  might  but  bring  us  to  God. 

Now,  all  this  is  the  purest  sentimental  nonsense 
if  this  life  ends  all  things.  If  the  wheat  and  the 
tares  are  to  grow  together,  and  no  separation  is  to 
be  made ;  if  love  is  to  hope  and  bear,  and  no  time 
is  to  come  when  that  which  is  in  part  shall  be 
done  away,  —  let  us  eat  and  drink  and  resist  evil, 
and  assert  ourselves;  for  to-morrow  we  die,  and 
are  as  the  beasts.  But  if,  as  the  gospel  every- 
where assumes,  this  state  of  things  is  passing  away, 
to  give  place  to  a  larger  and  better  and  more  per- 
manent one,  then  let  the  injustice  and  cruelty  and 
sorrow  be  measured  by  the  proportions  of  that 
larger  life.  They  seem  to  be  much  in  themselves ; 
but  Paul  puts  the  proportion  for  us  in  one  of  his 
graphic  sayings :  "  This  light  affliction,  which  is 
but  for  a  moment,  worketh  out  a  far  more  exceed- 
ing and  eternal  weight  of  glory."  The  only  diffi- 
culty with  Paul's  statement  is  on  the  side  of  the 
glory.  It  is  so  great  and  transcendent  that  it  will 
not  go  into  any  formula  that  even  he  can  devise. 
But  even  the  statement  which  he  does  give  makes 
the  sorrow  and   trial  of  earth   look  very  small. 


376  ONLY  A   LITTLE  WHILE. 

Suppose  we  must  be  sorrowful  to  the  end  of  time, 
—  and  many  a  man  and  woman  has  to  face  that 
necessity,  —  there  is  something  else  in  life  besides 
our  sorrow.  We  can  be  as  though  we  wept  not ; 
that  is  to  sa}^,  we  can  be  as  useful  and  as  helpful 
and  as  kindly  and  as  sympathizing  and  as  busy 
as  if  we  had  no  cause  to  weep.  We  may  have 
lost  what  was  ours;  but  the  time  is  short,  and 
heaven  will  give  it  back  with  interest.  Hard 
words,  unkindness,  neglect,  —  we  all  get  our  share ; 
yet  we  need  not  be  made  thereby  hard  or  bitter 
or  neglectful.  We  may  be  to  the  world,  in  our 
spirit  and  ministry,  just  as  if  these  things  were 
not.  The  time  is  short.  The  day  is  coming  when 
Christ's  children  shall  pass  into  a  realm  of  perfect 
love,  where  no  unkindness  shall  ever  make  the 
cheek  flush,  and  no  ingratitude  ever  wound  the 
spirit. 

And  so  of  our  joys :  "  They  that  rejoice,  as 
though  they  rejoiced  not,"  Not  that  we  are  to 
pass  this  life  in  gloom  and  suUenness  because  it  is 
short,  and  another  life  is  coming.  When  the  train 
goes  through  the  tunnel,  the  lamps  are  kindled, 
and  the  carriages  made  as  bright  and  cheerful  as 
possible.  We  shall  not  sit  down,  and  resign  our- 
selves to  gloom,  and  go  to  sleep  if  we  can.  No. 
The  time  is  short.  Let  us  be  cheerful,  —  all  the 
more  cheerful  because  the  sunlight  will  pour  in  by 
and  by.  But  if  there  is  grander,  richer,  more  en- 
during joy  in  the  life  beyond  this,  it  is  not  the  part 
of  wisdom  to  be  too  much  absorbed  in  earthly  joy. 
When  a  boy  is  going  on  his  first  journey  to  the 


ONLY   A  LITTLE   WHILE.  377 

city,  which  has  been  in  his  mind  the  sum  and  ideal 
of  all  splendors,  you  may  find  him  playing  his 
game  of  marbles  or  ball  an  hour  before  the  train 
starts,  l^ut  not  with  the  same  abandonment  which 
marks  him  on  the  ordinary  school  holiday,  when  he 
has  nothing  to  do  l)ut  play.  He  plays  as  one  who 
is  ready  to  drop  the  bat  at  a  minute's  notice,  and 
go  upon  his  journey,  to  enjoy  his  greater  pleasure  : 
and  so  the  comparison  of  the  familiar  hymn  is  not 
extravagant :  — 

"  This  life's  a  dream,  an  empty  show ; 
But  the  bright  world  to  which  I  go 
Hath  joys  substantial  and  sincere." 

You  can  easily  follow  out  for  yourselves  the  appli- 
cations of  the  thought  to  the  buying  and  selling, 
the  possessing  and  use  of  the  world  in  general. 
All  these  things,  in  New-Testament  thought,  have 
their  value  determined  by  two  facts,  —  the  short- 
ness of  this  life,  and  the  overshadowing,  transcend- 
ent grandeur  of  the  life  to  come.  Does  it  not 
become  us  to  hold  this  world  lightly  in  view  of 
these  two  truths,  —  so  little  time  left,  and  eternity 
approaching  ?  Does  it  not  become  us  to  guard 
ourselves  against  being  too  much  absorbed  in 
business,  too  much  engrossed  by  pleasure,  too 
much  fretted  and  irritated  by  the  trouble  and 
sorrow  and  injustice  of  this  life  ?  Such  things  do 
not  become  those  who  are  passing  through  this 
temporary  stage  to  an  eternal  home.  An  old 
woman  sat  one  day  beside  her  apple-stand  in  a 
great  thoroughfare.     A  well-known  judge  walked 


378  ONLY  A  LITTLE  WHILE. 

up,  and  stopped  for  au  apple.  "  Well,  Molly," 
said  he,  "  don't  you  get  tired  of  sitting  here  these 
cold,  dismal  days  ?  "  —  '-'-  It's  only  a  little  while, 
sir,"  was  the  answer.  —  "'  And  the  hot,  dusty  days  ?  " 
—  "•  Only  a  little  while,  sir."  —  "  And  the  rainy, 
drizzly  days,  and  your  sick,  rheumatic  days  ?  "  — 
"  It's  only  a  little  wliile,  sir."  —  "  And  what  then, 
Molly  ?  "  —  "  Then,  sir,  I  shall  enter  into  that  rest 
which  remains  for  the  people  of  God ;  and  the 
troublesomeness  of  the  way  there  don't  pester  nor 
fret  me.  It's  only  a  little  while."  —  "■  But,"  said 
the  judge,  "  what  makes  you  so  sure,  Molly  ?  "  — 
"  How  can  I  help  being  sure,  since  Christ  is  the 
way,  and  I  am  his  ?  Now  I  only  feel  him  along  the 
way :  I  shall  see  him  as  he  is  in  a  little  while, 
sir."  —  "  Ah  I  "  said  the  judge,  "  you've  got  more 
than  the  law  ever  taught  me."  —  "  Yes,  sir,  because 
I  went  to  the  gospel."  —  "  Well/'  said  he,  as  he  took 
up  his  apple,  and  began  to  walk  off,  "  I  must  look 
into  these  things."  —  "  There's  only  a  little  while, 
sir."     My  whole  sermon  is  in  that  story. 


Date  Due                       d 

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